“If you trust your rebel heart, ride it into battle. Don't be afraid, take the road less traveled.” - Road Less Traveled, Lauren Alaina
When Hazel had come to Wicked's Rest, she had truly believed it would be just another stop on a long line of places that hadn't panned out with answers or feeling like a home. But what she hadn't expected to find had been a family. People who cared so much about her and her well being, that it made every other moment in her life feel false, because these people actually mattered.
But after nearly losing it all to a unicorn, Ms. Betty, and Daniel, something had changed. It was like the words people had been saying to her had finally clicked. She deserved more. She deserved to know more. And even though coming to the conclusion of leaving was hard, Hazel knew that in this moment, it was what was right for her soul. Because there was more people like her in the world and maybe they had answers.
She'd be back though. There were too many people here that she had loved and cared about; the biggest one being Cairn. And while she had so desperately wanted to grow more in their newly formed confession of love to one another, Hazel knew that to be the best she could be for the other woman, she had to truly understand and love herself.
As she finished packing the stuff on her motorcycle that she would need for her trip to the Ozarks, Hazel let her mind wander back to all that had happened to her since arriving in Wicked's Rest. From having some woods hag that lived in a mess of tents stealing her Boar's Head 43% Lower Sodium Provolone Cheese to witnessing Emilio's body being thrown in a dumpster...eating a massive gummy worm to save Maggie and being stabbed by a unicorn and so many other random adventures that had brought good people into her life, Hazel couldn't help but laugh in disbelief knowing that she'd be coming back to this one day. But the one thing she would know, is that maybe she'd be a step closer to controlling and loving her wolf. A part of herself that she had hated so much and had reluctantly come to accept.
With the door to her cabin locked tight, so Oldielocks couldn't break in, Hazel gave the small home one last look, before she cranked up her motorcycle. It wouldn't be an easy task finding this pack and their berserker leader, but that was part of the journey. And if the journey gave Hazel the freedom to truly be herself, berserker and all, then it would certainly be worth it. And when she returned home to Wicked's Rest, maybe then she could truly start living the life she deserved.
PARTIES: @cairnivore; @appalachiannightmare
TIMING: A few days before Hazel leaves.
LOCATION: The Pines
SUMMARY: Hazel meets Cairn to tell her how she really feels.
WARNINGS: None!
It had been months since the kiss. Months since Hazel had really seen Cairn. They had briefly talked online, but it hadn’t been about anything too serious and definitely not about the kiss that it seemed neither one of them could fully understand. It had been a subject that had weighed on Hazel ever since it had happened causing stress and anxiety, but had shifted to something of warmth and love after Hazel had been subjected to nearly two weeks of torture thanks to Ms. Betty. And had been one of the few moments of Hazel’s life that had seemed to get her through what she assumed would be her ultimate end.
But now, here she stood, face-to-face with Cairn once again, with the proposed intent of actually talking things out. Discussing what had once caused her so much anguish, only to be replaced with a gratefulness for the soft kiss they had shared on their picnic, “I’m sorry it took so long for us to meet up again…Some things happened, and I just needed time.” Her soft brown eyes shifted from Cairn’s to the ground, clearly changed from all that had taken place over the past few months, “I thought maybe we could talk.”
—
Cairn had been wanting to meet with Hazel again after their picnic. Yet, she was hesitant to press—had she frightened Hazel away? Did she notice the wrong that was in her too? So, she carried the weight of Hazel in her thoughts, checking local postings frequently for attempts to contact her. Casual. Light. Even though the fire that ignited that summer still roared in her chest.
So when Hazel had been the one to set up a meeting point, Cairn was quick to accept.
Although now that she was actually there, she felt that same tightness in her chest, the same doubt. In her time in the library and with no one to ask questions to, she searched. Kissing. Girls. Girls Kissing. The latter gave information that caused a librarian to be flagged over and Cairn learned to be mindful of 3 sequential Xs on weblinks.
Hazel looked different in the snow. Different than she did during the summer when they first met and when they had their picnic. Her breath fogged the air when she spoke, drifting away before anyone could catch it. The cold had brought color to Hazel’s cheeks and nose, the same place Cairn recalled warmth blooming in the summer.
The hilltop was open and white around them, the world slowed and softened by snow. No place to hide. No need to run.
“I…” Cairn swallowed her own words. Still learning not to do that. She took a breath. “I’ve been wanting to see you again. I hoped you would reach out when you were ready.” She was still confused about what had happened, and what was happening now. Why was Hazel apologizing for taking the time she needed? “Your arm,” her eyes flicked down to glance at both. “Has it healed?” Whatever happened at the picnic, whatever Hazel did, whatever Cairn did—that didn’t matter. She just needed to know Hazel was okay.
—
It was like a rush of warmth that had filled her entire body the moment she had laid eyes on Cairn. A fire that cut through the frigid air that blew around them. And she could still vividly picture the kiss shared back when the weather was warmer and more inviting. But hearing the familiar sounds of Cairn’s voice is what had almost made Hazel melt into a puddle in the snow. Despite having been made to believe she was worthless, being in the presence of the person that Hazel was falling in love with, caused those thoughts to temporarily drift away, until mention of her arm had arisen.
It was then that the reminder of everything that had happened, had come flooding back in. But Hazel’s arm had been much better once she had let her mutt out for the first time in a long time, “I’ve been wantin’ to see you too. It just wasn’t the right time, but…my arm –” She held up the one that had been broken during the fight to get back to Ms. Betty, “it’s doin’ so much better. Thank you for askin’. How’ve you been, since…um…well…since the last time we saw each other?” She wanted to bring up the kiss, but she just wasn’t ready.
—
Cairn hadn’t realized just how much worry she had been carrying for Hazel until it loosened all at once, simply because Hazel was standing there now, and seemed okay. Since they last met, Hazel hadn’t left her mind—not in a way a thought stayed but in a way a sound did after it ended. A pressure that would return at odd moments, without a warning. Half-remembered. Half-felt. “I’ve been…” Cairn wasn’t sure how to describe herself. But she wasn’t one to lie. “I’ve been moving around. Where I used to stay… it… stopped being safe.” Her eyes averted from Hazel, unsure whether or not to reveal what had happened. The wounds were hardly present on her skin aside from some faint scarring.
Her own breath formed in front of her as she exhaled, mouth willing to say something but she hesitated. In Hazel’s absence, Cairn tried to make sense of her feelings. Tried to place it. She replayed the details the same way she’d retrace tracks in the dirt. The warmth. The contact. The way Hazel had pulled away so quickly. That part unsettled her the most. “Did I… do something wrong, last time?” Cairn's eyes flicked back to Hazel, wanting to pay closer attention this time, wondering how could she have missed it?
—
At hearing that Cairn had been in danger, Hazel’s heart dropped. If she had known, she would’ve been there for her, but before she could even say anything, the words caught in her throat. Would Hazel’s cabin had even been safe from the wrath of Ms. Betty and Jean-Ralphio? Hazel wasn’t one for false promises, and if anything had happened to Cairn, because of her, she never would’ve forgiven herself, so instead, she opted for a safe answer, “I’m so sorry, Cairn. Are you okay? Is everything okay now? Do you have somewhere safe to be?” Though the thought of offering her a place back then would’ve been more likely, Hazel didn’t feel safe now knowing the risk of her mutt coming out and possibly hurting Cairn.
The conversation was somewhat awkward, and it had turned even stiffer when the question came out of if Cairn had done something wrong. Immediately, Hazel replied, “No…No, you did nothin’ wrong. I feel like I did…Like I put you in a situation that didn’t give you much of a choice. I just assumed that…Well…” Hazel stammered and looked at the ground; her cheeks growing warmer and redder, “I just assumed you liked me…like that…and so, I thought a kiss would be okay. But I had never kissed another girl before, and I got scared…” She sheepishly looked up at Cairn, the harsh critic living inside her mind berating her even harsher now, than it would have, before Ms. Betty had wormed into her brain like a parasite.
—
Cairn responded with a simple nod of her head, not having expected Hazel to respond with urgency, not sure what to do with the way it made her chest flip. “I found a spot before winter fell.” It took some time to ensure the den was abandoned and to figure out the kind of animals that roamed around the area. Mainly prey. Whatever foxes had lived there once had moved on. “It’s warm. Safe.” Nothing could be entirely safe, Cairn knew that much and she got the sense that Hazel would understand that as well. Not the safest, but safe enough and Cairn could handle the rest.
It felt like the words hit her all at once, yet not all in a line she could follow but tangled in a way she couldn’t separate. Her mind snagged on each thing Hazel had said, tried to hold them and failed doing so. Even though Hazel had verbally told Cairn she did nothing wrong, everything that came after that made it clear something definitely still did. And then it hit her that Hazel said she had been scared. That single thread, once pulled, snapped the rest of them into place. Silence had settled for quieter than most would be comfortable with and while Cairn wasn’t sure how to respond the right way, she knew how to speak what was true to her. “I didn’t feel trapped,” Cairn started, her voice low and careful as if trailing over thin ice. “I just… didn’t know what it was. I’m still figuring it out. I don’t know what’s happening here.” She put a hand to her own chest as she took a step closer, eyes open and looking at Hazel's. Her words couldn’t have fixed anything—not Hazel’s fear, not Cairn’s confusion, but they were honest, and hers.
—
There had been a sense of relief that had come over Hazel, when she heard Cairn had found a new place to stay. One that was safe. At least that would be one worry off of her shoulders. Though her own life was falling apart, deep down, she had still worried for the safety of those she considered important, and Cairn had definitely been one of those people, “I’m mighty glad you were able to find a safe place to be, especially before all this snow moved in.” She didn’t dare want to think of Cairn not having a warm place to sleep at night, and she had hoped it had been anything, but hard and cold like the floor she had grown accustomed to sleeping on herself.
I didn’t feel trapped. An audible sigh of relief escaped Hazel’s lips, “I’ll be real honest, and say I don’t know what’s happenin’ either. This…liking someone like me…it’s all new, and the family I came from always told me it was wrong. But it’s just hard, cause how could somethin’ feel so right, and be considered so wrong?” She took in a quiet breath as Cairn moved in closer; their eyes once again locking in place much like they had the day of the picnic. Only this time, Hazel dared not to move. She wasn’t risking this moment, because it had been months since she had been in Cairn’s presence, and she didn’t want to lose that opportunity again, so soon.
—
Hazel’s inexperience should have comforted Cairn. It should have made her feel like she wasn’t alone—but Cairn was unfamiliar with not having someone to turn to that could give her some answer, some sort of clarity over what was happening inside her. Kisses in the fairytales her pama showed her, they were glossed over, something she didn’t have to worry about and Cairn believed them. Yet, here she was over a year later, put in all these situations her pama never taught her how to navigate. “Wrong?” Cairn echoed, dropping her head at that.
Cairn knew wrong. Knew it in the hollow of her stomach, the ache in her chest. She had learned the weight of it from the choices made in the wild, from every lesson her pama had forced upon her. And now, somehow, she had tangled it up in something she didn’t have a word for. She hadn’t meant for her wrong to seep into this with Hazel. She wanted to understand it, name it and maybe—just maybe—put it down without hurting anything. “I’ve always known wrong. And I–I think I brought it here.” It was then she looked back up to Hazel. “It’s me… that’s making this feel heavy for you. I didn’t mean to Hazel–but now… now it’s inside both of us, isn’t it?”
Yet, this didn’t feel like any wrong Cairn had ever felt before. “To me, wrong feels cold,” Cairn said quietly, her voice almost a whisper. “This… this is warm. Light. I can’t deny it.” She felt it in her chest, a weight and a warmth that made the world closer—something she could finally understand. “But I don’t know what it means.” There was so much Cairn had to learn, so much she wanted to know—but she didn’t want to hurt Hazel. Maybe Cairn was wrong, in the quiet ways that only the forest would know. And yet… this warmth that the two of them created, Cairn believed it was the most right she’d ever done.
—
When the word wrong came out of Cairn’s mouth, Hazel’s breath hitched. She didn’t want the other person to think that about themselves. They weren’t wrong. What Hazel had been taught was wrong, because like Cairn, she also felt the warmth and light. It was one of the reasons she held on with the hope of surviving Ms. Betty, because not seeing Cairn again was an impossible thought to have. So now, standing here face-to-face with her, Hazel was grateful for the way things went down with Ms. Betty and her friends. And though it might have been hard to believe, grateful for all she had endured and come through since then. Especially after everything that had happened with Daniel in the woods.
“I want you to know right here and now that you are not wrong and you did not make me feel this way. The people that were supposed to be my family did with all the things they put in my head at such a young age. Things that clearly weren’t right. You’re one of the best things that’s ever happened to me, Cairn, whose last name I still don’t know…” She laughed as tears began pricking at her eyes. “The past several months have been like hell on Earth, but knowin’ you were still out there got me through so much. And I think I’m startin’ to fall somethin’ kinda fierce for you. But there’s still so much I need to find out and learn about myself, before I could ever begin to consider somethin’ more, because I don’t want to hurt you.”
Hazel was falling in love with Cairn, but she didn’t want to say it to her. Not yet. Not until things were better for herself, and she knew more about her berserker. Which was something she had been giving a lot of thought ever since she had found out about Talia’s friend who just happened to be the same thing as Hazel. But how would she tell Cairn this? How would she explain that she was leaving Wicked’s Rest for a while. She didn’t want to lie to her. She wanted her to know the truth, but how do you tell someone that you can change into a massive wolf?
Instead, Hazel reached out for Cairn’s hands, caressing the back of them gently with her thumb. Her skin was soft and much cooler than the heat that radiated from Hazel. And though she was nervous, she wanted to prove to Cairn that she truly did love her, and more importantly, that she was in no way wrong, so without hesitating much longer, Hazel let go of Cairn’s hands and gently placed hers on the brunette’s cheeks, before pulling her in and laying her lips once again on Cairn’s, but this time, she didn’t pull back in fear. In fact, this time, she let one of her hands slip behind Cairn’s head as she ran her fingers through her hair, before finally pulling back for air, “You are not wrong, and you never were.” Her hands were back on Cairn’s face as she looked lovingly into her eyes to reaffirm her feelings.
—
Cairn listened the way she always did when something mattered—still, intent, like the words could slip away if she didn’t hold them carefully. She felt a familiar tightening in her chest seeing the tears bright in Hazel’s eyes, the kind of tightening that came when someone showed too much truth all at once. Not wrong. That was the phrase that hit harder than anything else Hazel had said. Wrong was learned the way one learned the weather, by the pattern, by absence, by what was never corrected. Her pama never named it outright, only let it exist in the quiet corners where reassurance should have lived. So to hear someone say it, someone like Hazel, to put it so clearly, so firmly like it were fact—it made something falter inside of Cairn. A belief beginning to lose its footing.
Cairn breathed in, slow, grounding herself in this moment, in the sound of Hazel’s laugh breaking through tears, in the honesty being laid bare as can be in between them. While she didn’t know what falling meant in the way Hazel did, nor did she know what came next or what “more” was supposed to look like, she knew that she was still here. Still standing. And she wasn’t running. That meant something for Cairn, even if she didn’t have the words for it yet.
When Hazel’s hands moved to her cheeks, Cairn held her breath from the physical touch, from the anticipation. Skin-to-skin always felt like a warning to her. Too close meant danger, meant reaction, but Hazel’s touch was careful, like she was holding something fragile rather than cornering it. Cairn’s heart fluttered, fast and unsure, yet, she stayed. The kiss came softer this time around. Slower. Like something offered instead of taken. Cairn’s eyes slipped shut on instinct, her body leaning before her thoughts could catch up. Hazel was so warm, impossible so, heat bleeding into Cairn’s mouth, her jaw, all the places where Hazel’s hands rested like anchors.
When Hazel pulled back for air, Cairn followed her without meaning to, just a fraction, as if reluctant to let the space return. Her eyes opened slowly, lashes damp. She hadn’t realized she was crying until the cold kissed her eyes. Cairn swallowed, breath uneven, hands hovering uselessly between them—then her lips curved, small and real, the kind of smile whose existence surprised even herself. “Woods,” she said quietly, voice still rough, but steadying. “Cairn Woods.” Her smile wavered, softening, and she lifted one hand, tentatively. It brushed Hazel’s wrist as if asking for permission without words. The flame was alive now, warm, bright and frightening in the best way.
And this time, when Cairn leaned in, it was all on her own.
—
The words were brief. It was simply a full name. Cairn Woods. Hazel repeated it over and over again in her mind quietly as she looked into the other woman’s eyes. She didn’t want to lose this moment. To never forget this moment. It was easily one of the best and most meaningful memories she had ever made, and when Cairn leaned in to meet Hazel’s lips, she was taken aback, but in the most amazing way possible. Her heartbeat racing swiftly in her chest as she laid a more passionate kiss into the soft, pink lips of the person standing in front of her. It was like a movie moment, and she never wanted it to end. Just a little while longer, until she couldn’t.
But when she pulled back again, tears were falling quietly down her wind bitten cheeks. Hazel knew it was time. It was time to explain her decision, and then she would work in the reason for why she was leaving, “You are so beautiful, and you…” She lowered her head, “I don’t…I don’t want to leave, but I’ve gotta go away for a while. To figure some things out about myself and my family. And I would ask you to come with me, but I couldn’t promise that it would be safe, and if anything ever happened to you, because of me…” She raised her head slowly, setting her focus back on Cairn’s eyes. If Hazel was about to tell the person she was falling madly in love with that she was going to have to go away because she was something more than just a human, she wasn’t going to be a coward about it, “Cairn…There’s somethin’ about me that I’ve never told you, and for you to be able to understand why I’m leavin’, I think I need to be honest.”
Hazel sucked in a deep breath trying to prepare herself as she let her hand move back to Carin’s cheek, but just as she was about to say something, she felt a sharp pain run through her shoulder and come out the other side, merely inches from Cairn.
—
She closed the small distance, still learning the shape of it, wanting to understand every inch before it disappeared. Her hand came up first, uncertain, fingers brushing against Hazel’s sleeve. They settled on Hazel’s wrists, grounding herself in the warmth there. Their lips met and Cairn felt herself give. Her fingers curled as the sensation bloomed through her, her heartbeat loud and alive in her ears, her mouth tingling with the pressure of the kiss. It stirred something deep and unnamed inside of her, a pull that made her want to stay, to linger, to understand this feeling with her whole body rather than run from it. This is what she wanted. This was something she had chosen.
Cairn didn’t want the distance to return, but it had to and as her eyes fluttered open, she saw the tears fall along Hazel’s cheeks. Her brows knitted together for a moment, trying to understand what was happening, what Hazel was saying. She had to leave? Cairn understood—there were things Hazel had to figure out. Questions that needed to be answered. Cairn understood that better than most. Yet, it didn’t keep her chest from tightening. She dropped her head, passing it off as a nod, unable to face Hazel at the moment. Just for the moment while she processed. Safe? Cairn didn’t need that. She had never been safe. What did it matter now that they were together?
But then Hazel said there was something she hadn’t told her. That made Cairn still completely. Secrets, she understood. Whatever Hazel was about to say, Cairn could already feel it hovering between them, heavy… but not hostile. “You can tell me.” Cairn said, voice low and steady despite the ache settling in her ribs. She looked to Hazel, searching her face, not for reassurance but for the truth. “If you need to go… I won’t chase you.” Cairn would stay put so Hazel had something to come back to. “But I want to understand.” She didn’t pull away. She didn’t brace. Cairn stayed. Even if it meant learning how to let someone else go.
Then, a sound cut through the wind, Cairn blinked, trying to place it, to track it and felt it rush past her a heartbeat later. She stepped back on instinct, pulse spiking, only then noticing something had struck Hazel. “Are you okay?” She asked, already moving closer.
—
The pain radiated through her shoulder and then down her body. But it was more like an annoyance; a hindrance that sent a surge of rage through her body triggering her wolf, “C-Cairn…you need to leave…” Hazel was panting at this point as she could already feel the berserker arranging her insides. But even through the pain of the shift, she didn’t want Cairn to be a casualty of her wolf, “NOW!” She hated raising her voice. It felt mean, and Hazel didn’t like to be mean, but her wolf did. Her wolf liked to be more than mean. Her wolf liked to be cruel.
Stumbling backwards, the sounds of crunching and grinding bones filled the air as fur and fangs sprouted. Hands became huge paws with extremely sharp claws. And soon the massive black wolf stood on all fours, no trace of the shoulder wound apparent. With its crimson red eyes, it scanned the area landing on Cairn, recognizing the goodness in her, before looking further around to find what had attacked Hazel. An overgrown looking dog about the size of a bear, on all fours, made out of nothing, but ice. And without second thought, the berserker lowered her head and began to growl; the black fur on her back and tail sticking out as a warning to show dominance to the other animal.
Standing with its chest puffed out, tall and proud, the pupsickle looked confident in its fight, but only because stepping out from behind it were three more pupsickles that looked exactly like it glistening in the sunlight with their own razor sharp teeth bared and their sickle shaped tails raised at the ready. It was going to be a fight from Hell, but the berserker was ready, and without holding back any longer, she lunged forward and began to tussle with the four other wolf-like creatures.
—
Cairn didn’t understand; her only concern was Hazel. “Hazel, what are you–” The yell cut through her words, not frightening or offensive, but heavy with the weight of what was happening. A wave of severity washed over her. She took a step back, struggling with herself. She had promised to herself that she wouldn’t run anymore and that Hazel was someone she wouldn’t leave behind. But, Hazel wasn’t just Hazel anymore.
A large black wolf erupted from Hazel. Cairn had never seen a creature so large, so dark. Their eyes met, and in that instant, an unspoken assessment passed between them. Hazel was in there, somewhere, but… something else was too. A predator, powerful and aware. The wolf broke the gaze first, letting Cairn be as it turned to something else. Cairn was still caught up taking in the appearance of the wolf when her attention snapped elsewhere.
Movement at the edge of her vision drew her eyes from the trees. Four beasts emerged, glinting with frozen menace. Her chest tightened. Even though Hazel was immense, she was outnumbered and the ice coating the creatures provided them with both protection and danger. Cairn stayed rooted, taking in the scene, wondering how—if she needed to—she could step in and help Hazel.
—
Ice had been a lot tougher to break through than the skin of most of the other things the berserker had fought. Her claws were sharp and could leave marks, but the wolf was starting to realize that if she had wanted to defeat these things, it would have to be in pieces. But first, she was going to have to watch out for – seeing the sickle type tail come down from one of the pupsickles, the animal rolled out of the way just in time, before getting stabbed, but down came another catching the berserker on the leg leaving a deep gash, before she managed to latch on with her teeth and bite through the ice severing one tail as the pupsickle in question seemed to retreat.
As she climbed back to her feet, the berserker limped forward maneuvering between the other beasts until she managed to ram into one knocking it on its side. Knowing she’d have to stay sharp as to where the other ones were, the wolf latched onto the lower portion of one of the legs and began gnawing away at the appendage until it was a nub, before rolling out of the path of another tail that managed to come down hard and shatter on its packmate. Two tails gone and two to go as the tailless iced over animal fled leaving one pupsickle with a bad leg and one that wasn’t injured at all.
Now back on her feet, the berserker opted to take out the fully intact pupsickle, but it hadn’t come without a cost. Caught off guard, as the animal made from ice came charging from the other side, the massive wolf felt the air release from her lungs as ribs cracked from the icy impact, and a loud yelp escaped from her lips. As she lay stunned on the ground, the three-legged pupsickle had managed to find its footing and was now hobbling towards Cairn. All while the pupsickle who had started it all was stalking the berserker waiting for the right moment to run its tail through her side to finally end the fight.
—
Cairn could only watch as the wolf tore into the iced beasts. She winced when one raked across Hazel’s leg, a flash of red spattered against the white. The thought of what would happen when Hazel returned struck her hard and fast. Her mind jumped to the memory of Hazel’s broken arm. Did it happen while doing something like this? In the middle of something violent and unfinished? Cairn’s stomach fell at the thought of Hazel getting hurt on account of her. Despite being injured Hazel managed to drive two of them off. Cairn stayed where she was, pressed back behind a tree, trusting she’d given enough distance for Hazel to finish it.
Then came the yelp. Her heart kicked hard in her ribs. She had to grip tight onto the tree to stop herself from running toward the sound. She shifted, just enough. Too much. One of the remaining creatures caught sight of her. It wobbled as it turned, favoring one side, but still fast. Still coming. It came at her in a burst of white and red, snow kicking up beneath its weight. Too fast to outrun, too committed to stop. Cairn pivoted sideways instead of back. The creature reared, tail slicing through the air. It struck bark instead of bone—the sickle edge biting deep, lodging for half a breath. The half-second was enough.
Cairn was already moving, breath locked tight in her chest. She didn’t look back, she scanned the ground as she ran, roots half-frozen, half-petrified with the winter until she spotted what she needed. She slid to her knees, gripping on the trunk and pulled herself to it. The uneven thud of three limbs hit the ground again and they were nearing. She peeked around the trunk just long enough to gauge its line. Her fingers closed around a thick, buried root. She gave a sharp tug. It didn’t budge. She looked up once more and met its eyes, the contact made the creature surge faster. Using both hands now, she dug her heels in and instead of trying to tug, she fell away, letting her weight do the work. The root dislodged, snapping up a few inches above the ground. The beast saw it—too late. Its paws tangled, momentum sending the beast toppling over, skidding onto its back unable to stop itself until it collided into a tree, shaking loose a heavy cluster of snow that collapsed over it.
—
Panting from both exhaustion and pain, the berserker gathered her bearings, but when she realized that Cairn was being targeted, she fought like hell to climb back to all four paws. However, when she did, the healthy pupsickle sent its razor sharp tail in her direction, nearly slicing the wolf’s belly open, but she had moved just in the nick of time before the blade of ice could pierce her. Rage only seemed to grow knowing that she couldn’t get to Cairn, but the pupsickle in front of her wouldn’t let up. And managing to dodge another attack, the animal barrel rolled onto the ground and back to her feet, despite the immense pain that was sent through her ribs at impact.
With red eyes trained on the pupsickle, the berserker spotted her opening and started running fast and hard, before maneuvering in the snow and quickly turning back to latch onto the animals tail, and once she had it, the wolf dug her claws in to the ground for grip and started to shake her head back and forth in an effort to break the tail of the iced canine. And just like that, the tail snapped off and shattered as the berserker released it from her mouth; which in turn, left the pupsickle in a vulnerable position. But instead of continuing the fight, it, too, made a beeline for the rest of its pack; all while the black furred wolf ran desperately toward Cairn hoping for the best.
When she spotted the small human, her eyes scanned for any sign of the other pupsickle, but when she didn’t see the creature, the berserker let out a hard, quivering sigh as she collapsed in the snow in relief. The wolf’s eyes on Cairn, she moved her head forward and began to sniff her gently before nuzzling her with her large snout.
—
Cairn let out a breath she’d been holding after seeing the beast get pummelled with the snow. She stayed with her back pressed to the trunk, heart pounding hard enough she could feel it in her throat. Hazel. Where’s Hazel? She started to move, then froze at the sound of heavy footsteps. For a moment, instinct screamed at her to brace—but the sound was different from before. Slower. Familiar in a way she couldn’t yet explain. Then she saw her.
Or rather, the wolf.
It seemed to scan for any remaining threats and Cairn knew she should be doing the same. But with the danger gone and the wolf so close, her focus narrowed. The coat was impossibly dark, like she could be swallowed in it. Still, Cairn lifted a hand without thinking. A cold, wet nose met her palm. She smiled before she could stop herself, fingers sinking into the thick warmth of fur, grounding and real.
“Hazel,” Cairn said softly, uncertain if Hazel could understand her now, or speak at all in this form. For a fleeting moment, an old story surfaced in her mind—the one her pama used to tell her differently than others did. Red riding hood, the big bad wolf. How everyone remembered the teeth, the danger, the fear—but forgot the parts about how stories twisted based on who was telling. Wolves weren’t villains. They were protectors. Survivors. And standing there, hand resting against Hazel’s snout, Cairn knew which version she believed.
—
The wolf’s ears perked at her human’s name being called, and a warmth filled her entire body, before she let out a gruff snort blowing hot air in Cairn’s face. Acknowledgement that she knew of Hazel and that she knew of Cairn’s importance to Hazel. But the small hand running its way through her thick winter coat, made the animal nuzzle in harder.
The sun was starting to set, and the wolf knew that it would be getting colder as soon as the sun went down; which had been fine for her, but not for this furless two-legged human that stood in front of her. So a decision was made. No rolling or playing in the snow after a successful fight. Tonight’s celebration of victory would belong to Hazel, and her human friend that made the wolf feel warm inside.
Slowly rising to her feet, as the pain that had been present earlier was now starting to subside, the wolf lowered down the front half of her body with her butt in the air, hoping Cairn would take the hint to crawl onto her back. Humans were slow in their travels; this the wolf had learned over the years being stuck inside Hazel, despite how aggressive and fast she could be in her human form. And with a bark, she indicated her impatience to Cairn.
—
Cairn let out a soft, almost awkward laugh when a huff of warm wolf breath puffed against her face. The sheer absurdity of it— the fact that this enormous wolf was Hazel, that she was so soft and… cute! It tugged at a place in Cairn’s chest that she hadn’t felt since childhood. A warmth that quickened her pulse, that pulled an unguarded, toothy grin out of her.
The bark startled her, but Cairn knew it wasn’t one of aggression. The pitch was a touch higher than one would expect a dominating, threatening bark would be. Its only purpose was to alert. She stepped closer, hand running along the wolf’s spine, fingers sinking into the thick fur. She wasn’t sure what the posture meant, only that the wolf had lowered itself, steady and still. Close enough that Cairn could just…
The origin of that instinct was unsure, but Cairn swung her leg over the wolf’s back. The warmth emanating from Hazel was comforting and grounding. It made Cairn want to lean in, to trust the beast beneath her without needing to understand why.
—
Once Cairn was on her back, the wolf slowly raised up making sure that her passenger was secured and not going to slip off. And then, without hesitating any longer the large animal took off trotting back towards home. Her pace was steady, but not fast enough that she would lose Cairn. And as she made her way through the woods avoiding humans at all costs, the wolf pushed through snow drifts and fallen limbs as the moon began to rise in the sky.
By the time they had arrived at the small cabin in the woods, falling snow had coated the wolf’s black fur. She had desperately wanted to shake, but she held off. Lowering herself down slowly to make the hop off as easy and as safe as possible, the wolf soon raised back up and let her body shimmy, sending melted water droplets flying everywhere. And then her focus was back on Cairn. Lowering her head, the large creature gently nuzzled her in the back giving a slight push forward hoping she would get the hint to enter the house.
—
Cairn held on tighter as the wolf moved, worried of being thrown off. However, there was an awareness in the way it took off, as if being completely mindful of who it was carrying. The wind brushed against Cairn’s cheeks, pushing back her hair. She closed her eyes, enjoying the feeling of moving fast, yet careful. It had been a long time since she felt safe like this.
As the speed slowed, Cairn opened her eyes to see a small cabin coming into view. Hazel came to a stop and lowered herself, allowing Cairn to get off. It didn’t seem like anyone was home. Where were they? She felt a small nudge along her back and turned to look at the wolf—at Hazel. “Is this…your home?” Cairn turned back to the cabin and headed toward the door. It was getting cold outside and she was missing the heat from the wolf. If this was where Hazel lived, then it had to be safe. Cairn opened the door and entered, feeling a comforting warmth settling on her as she did.
—
The wolf had given a soft nod to Cairn in answer to the question. Reassuring her that it was safe to enter, and retaining her southern hospitality in the process. But once Cairn was inside, the wolf staggered forward, collapsing. She was tired and shifting back into Hazel’s human form was going to be a task, but nonetheless, the animal made the effort as a once massive black fur ball disappeared into that of a small, thin woman, shivering as she lay in the snow.
It had taken a few minutes for Hazel to get her bearings. To know where she was at. And when she finally realized she wasn’t entirely covered in blood, like most fights tended to end, she was able to focus on her surroundings; her home.
Crawling to her knees and using a nearby tree to support her weight, Hazel climbed to her feet and made a beeline for the house. And when she finally made it inside, she had been surprised to find Cairn waiting inside for her. All memories of what her wolf had gone the moment she had shifted back to her human form, “C-Cairn…” It was a quick realization that she was standing there naked, and she immediately padded towards the couch snatching up her blanket to wrap around her shivering body, “W-What are you doing here?”
—
Cairn walked further into the cabin, taking in the scent, the sights—it all pulled her in. She wanted to learn more of this place, she wanted to know more about Hazel. See more of her. She heard her name followed by faint footsteps behind her and turned back toward the entrance. At the sight of Hazel in a blanket, shivering, confusion flashed across her face. Did she not remember? Cairn shrugged off her jacket, feeling a chill settle on her but Hazel’s chill had to be worse.
“You brought me here.” Cairn explained, coming closer to help drape her jacket over Hazel. Cairn had yet to associate the naked body as anything other than information. While Hazel was covered up with the blanket, it was clear she was nude underneath—or at the very least not fully clothed. It was interesting considering she had run into a shifter that did have clothes on when they turned back. It was something important to note, something to consider later. Not now.
Cairn shook from the cold, shoulders raising. The cabin was definitely warmer than the outside—but her body was still adjusting and it hadn’t yet melted what the cold froze. “Is there… somewhere warmer?”
—
“I…” Hazel paused. Her wolf had done this. Her wolf was aware of what Hazel felt? It was a new bit of information that the young woman was just now discovering, and what better person than to have that revelation with. It still hurt that she couldn’t remember what her wolf had done anytime it took control, but just like any traumatic event, the beast within her knew that protecting Hazel from the truth was more important. And maybe one day, she’d actually be able to handle it all.
Until then, Hazel would just try and put her focus on other things. Let the wolf be the wolf, while she was the girl falling in love with someone she couldn’t have. And as Cairn moved in closer and put the jacket over her shoulders, she couldn’t help, but rest her hand on Cairn’s until she had pulled away. Revealing her own discomfort in the drafty cabin, “Thank you. And yeah. The fireplace.”
It didn’t take long for Hazel to build a fire for them, not thinking about anything else, including clothes, as her body was already warming up thanks to the berserker’s high body temperature and the jacket that Hazel had slipped her arms into and zipped up. Plus, the jacket was warm and smelled like the other woman. And it made her feel even closer, but she would remedy that even further with the pallet of blankets and pillows that lay just in front of the fireplace, “I hope this is…okay. It’s colder the further back into the house you get.” She motioned towards her bedroom, which seemed dark and uninviting, unlike what Hazel had laid out on the floor for them.
Ears perking at the sound of the wind picking up outside and the snow blowing harder against the windows, Hazel looked from the coldness outside to the warmth that was right in front of her, “And if you want…I thought maybe you could stay the night, since it sounds like there’s a snowstorm a brewin’ outside.” She picked nervously at a hangnail as she waited for Cairn’s answer.
—
Cairn watched as Hazel put on the jacket and something in her chest skipped, sharp and sudden. It looked different on her. Better. The thought startled her more than it should have. Despite the fire just starting, heat had already creeped up to her neck. She didn’t know why the sight tightened something low in her stomach. She tried to focus on what Hazel was saying but her heartbeat had reached her ears and she just tried to steady her breathing before anything else. It was a good thing, long pauses were a common pattern of hers.
“This is good,” Cairn finally said, her voice a little tight. She looked at the blankets and pillows then down to her feet. Riley’s place came to mind, she remembered what she had to do there. Remove her boots. Stepping to the side, she began unlacing them. She wasn’t sure why this mattered indoors—it wasn’t always a rule. Maybe it was just the homes of others. Once the boots were off and placed neatly against a wall, she came back to Hazel with a small smile.
She had considered the offer. To stay the night, stay inside. The last time she’d done that, it hadn’t felt like a choice at all. Outside hadn’t been an option. Inside had felt necessary, inevitable. This wasn’t that. Cairn didn’t feel any heaviness at the thought of going back out, no pull toward shelter. There was only the quiet, steady want to stay with Hazel. “I’ll stay.”
The fire’s warmth welcomed her. She stepped onto the blankets, still settling in the heat, wobbling a little before she found solid ground. Her hand reached for Hazel’s—not to pull, just to meet, to guide them together.
—
Upon the words, ‘I’ll stay.’ Hazel could feel a rush of excitement well up in her body, but she didn’t outright express it, except for her already flushed cheeks burning a little redder. And as she noticed Cairn’s hand, she reached out and took it; grateful to feel the same warmth she had felt earlier in the day, before her wolf had taken over. The thumping in her chest, a little harder than before.
It was the first time she had ever had someone spend the night that she had felt attracted to. Never, in her life, had she gotten to experience this sensation and what it could potentially mean, and though the regret hung low, of her knowing that she’d be headed to the Ozarks soon, Hazel now knew she had a reason to come back. A reason to return to Wicked’s Rest, because it’s where her heart was beginning to linger. And to want to reside, when she could successfully say she knew more of who she was, and not who she thought she was. But the start of this explored relationship with Cairn, in all its delicacy, was something to be cherished.
Meeting the other woman on the floor, Hazel scooted in close and pulled a blanket around her, before looking Cairn in the eyes, “You’re the most beautiful and delicate thing I’ve ever laid eyes on, Cairn Woods, and I’m comin’ back to you.” Pushing a strand of hair off of her cheek, Hazel leaned in and let her lips gently meet the other woman’s.
TIMING: current
LOCATION: the woods
PARTIES: @appalachiannightmare & @danielabrams
SUMMARY: Hazel and Daniel have a terrible time in the woods.
CONTENT WARNINGS: Suicidal ideation, suicide, gore, gun use, torture, and sibling death
Daniel ran through the dark dense forest, jumping over rocks and fallen tree limbs. His boots crunched through old snowfall as he rushed towards the screams and cries for help. He heard a low growl hidden behind the horrified screaming that erupted through the night. He had been wandering through the forest, trying to force himself to act like an actual ranger, when the screams grabbed his attention and drew him in towards them. A sudden gunshot echoed through the woods, and the woods lit up with sounds as animals fled from the ringing gunshot, screams, and growls. But Daniel carried on with his mission, rushing through the pitch black night guided only by a bit of moonlight peeking through the clouds and finding its way through the barren tree branches. He couldn’t exactly see well in the dark, but ever since the incident with Maya, his eyes somewhat saw better in the dark, better than before her murder. He never questioned why though. He didn’t want to think about why he slowly developed some sort of night vision later in life.
As he neared the screams, another gunshot rang through the night. He clenched his jaw and slowed his pace. He was close to the scene now, so close that he smelled the smoky still-burning campfire. He stepped carefully through the snow and leaf litter, not wanting to make a single sound to alert the beast. He swung his rifle off his back and gripped it in his hands. One finger rested on the trigger as he crept through the trees to a small clearing. His senses alerted him that whatever did this was still nearby, so he moved like a ghost, silent and practically floating on his feet as he maneuvered through the woods. He brought his hunting rifle’s sight up to his eye as he prepared to aim and fire at what he heard and sensed as he walked into the campsite.
The small campfire crackled, lighting up the area for Daniel to better see the chaos left behind by the beast. Shredded neon yellow tent pieces lay on the ground with other pieces caught in the tree branches above him. A detached leg partially lay in the campfire, and he immediately kicked it away from the burning flames, not wanting the smell of burning human flesh to take over his senses. Body parts and torn off pieces of flesh lay scattered across the earth, with dark red blood mixing into the dirtied brown snow. He spotted the head of a woman, a familiar face to him. He recognized her from earlier that morning when he hung around the state park chatting with some of the park rangers there. She, her friend, and her husband were going on a winter backpacking trip. Out of boredom he chatted with the husband as the two women went inside the ranger station, giving Daniel the opportunity to glean more information about the trio. The husband pulled out his phone and showed off pictures from their backpacking trips across the globe, with photos of them in the Canadian Rockies and the Alps. They viewed this trip in Wicked’s Rest as a fun, easy getaway before going onto one of their bigger adventures. Everything about the trio told Daniel that they were well-prepared, but he still worried about what he knew lurked in the woods.
But now he looked down at the beheaded wife whose blood leaked from her neck into the dirt and snow. A creaking in the branches caused him to look up and see the partial body of the friend dangling from the branches, somehow tossed up into the air and now stuck in the tree. No sign yet of the husband, but he also hadn’t found the gun that fired the two shots.
Daniel ignored the scene around him as he cautiously tiptoed through the destroyed campsite. He spent his life stumbling onto scenes like this—finding a gruesome murder from one of the beasts that he hunted. Each new gory murder further sanitized him to the horrors he saw, to ignore the body parts and blood. If he dwelled too much on the dismembered humans, then he would lose his focus on what needed to be done. It was a mistake he made years ago—a mistake that tormented his dreams and everyday life. The scene looked somewhat similar to this, but at least he wouldn’t have to do much cleanup of these murders. Hopefully the park rangers would grow concerned when the backpackers didn’t check in with the station or return on time, and the park rangers might find the corpses a week or so later. If the winter snow allowed them to find the bodies. But Daniel made note of the location in case they weren’t found by springtime. Maybe he could “stumble” across the grisly scene on one of his hikes and alert the authorities. But at least for now, he didn’t have to touch the corpses too much. He would do some rearranging to make it look more like an average animal attack, not something too supernatural.
A soft crying sound grabbed his attention. It was a little off into the darkness of the trees, northwest of the campsite. He followed the sound, not letting down his rifle as he moved towards what he thought was a crying woman. As he walked closer, he spotted the handgun on the ground, with a detached hand wrapped around it. Slightly further ahead, he saw what remained of the man who fired the two shots. His shredded body littered the area, and Daniel grimaced for the first time since walking into the campsite. But he couldn’t let himself be distracted by all the blood around him. Instead, he followed the crying.
Reaching the crying sound, Daniel stopped in his tracks. The sobs came from it—the beast of his nightmares. Her human body was stained in the blood of the three humans who she tore to shreds in her berserker form. The whole time that he stepped through the campsite, he remained calm and collected, his heart at a steady beat, his mind detached from the sights of all the gore. But now his heart accelerated as he watched the crimson blood crawling down from her forehead to her chin, and from her chin dripping onto her chest. His stomach twisted at the all-too familiar sight of her covered in human blood. His chest heaved up and down, and he struggled to breathe in enough air to reach his lungs.
But Daniel kept his rifle pointed at her.
—
Ever since she had gotten her devil back, it was like Hazel had lost control. The beast had been more sensitive than ever, and it took everything within Hazel not to lose her temper or what little control she had earned over the years of living with this other half of herself. It was as if her wolf had been making up for lost time being confined to the drugs that Ms. Betty had been pumping into Hazel over the past several months. Even the smell of a dead deer or other animal had sent Hazel into a frenzy putting her out into nature at all hours of the day. The bloodlust was real, and it was as if the young woman had been on cleanup duty to all the horrible things that went on in this town.
The smell had wafted through the air miles out, but just enough to reach the edge of the property Hazel’s cabin had sat on. And when it reached her nostrils, the task she was doing had lost all importance as her mouth began to water. Unknowingly, and mind fading into a slumber to allow the berserker to take control, Hazel walked out of the cabin to confirm what was already suspected, someone or something was injured, and she was going to take care of it no matter the cost.
With a sudden crack in her spine, Hazel let out a loud yowl of pain. Instinctively, her body had begun to shift and form into its more natural state. The one her ancestors had come from. Bones snapping. Skin stretching. Claws breaking through and forcing human fingernails and toenails to fall off. Black fur jutting out almost instantaneously. Quadrupling in size and her eyes becoming redder than the blood she was so desperately longing for. And when the shift was complete, the berserker took off running on all fours to find what she was looking for.
The hunt had been a rough one. The culprit had been a ball-tailed cat that had been injured by shot gunfire, but had led the berserker to a campsite in the mountains that had been destroyed by its curiosity and longing for food after being drawn out by the smell of humans in its territory. And unfortunately by the time the berserker had fatally injured the other creature that had mangled the two women, the man at the campsite had returned to find his wife and their friend ripped apart, and the berserker resting from a fight it didn’t expect.
It was the warning shot from a hand gun that caused the massive wolf to rise. The threat looming of being fired upon making it turn and lower its head sending deep guttural growls in the man’s direction, until he popped the berserker twice. Brushing her front leg, and the second hitting her in the right shoulder of the same leg. And that was all the creature needed to pounce and rip the man limb from limb.
Once satisfied, the animal collapsed back to the ground and began licking its wounds as the healing process took hold. And upon waking, Hazel found herself curled up in the snow, once again covered in the blood from a massacre she couldn’t remember. Only to soon find herself staring down the barrel of a gun pointed right in her face, “D-Daniel?”
—
Why did she have to say his name? Why couldn’t she have kept her mouth shut so he could fire a bullet or two through her?
But of course he hesitated. Again. Always hesitating these days before pulling the trigger. Something kept him from just shooting shifters sometimes, and it left a disgusting taste in his mouth whenever he thought too much about his hesitation.
As he stared at Hazel through the sight of his gun, a strange sound rang through his ears. His vision turned cloudy. His heart accelerated even faster. The hesitation turned into some strange type of feeling, and he lowered his rifle without realizing it. One of his hands flew to his forehead where sweat beaded across his skin. “Hazel?” was all he managed to say at first. He swallowed, but it was a hard gulp, almost as if he had something stuck in his throat.
Daniel slammed his eyes shut and turned his head away from her. What was going on with him? He opened his eyes and stared at the torn apart corpse of the man. The man’s eyes were wide open, and those lifeless eyes stared into Daniel. His stomach turned into knots as he took a moment to really think about the carnage around him. To not ignore the horrifying scene. To take a moment to see.
But the scene changed around him. He was no longer standing on snowy ground, no longer located in Wicked’s Rest. A cool summer night’s breeze brushed across his face and tousled his hair as he listened to Maya laughing at one of his stupid jokes. The crackling fire lit up her face, illuminating her goofy grin that looked just like his own. She called him an idiot and threw a marshmallow across the fire at him, hitting him in the face. He picked it up off the ground and threw it right back at her. But that memory between the two laughing siblings didn’t last long, as Maya’s screaming drowned out the recollection of her laughter. The blood in the snow turned into blood splattered across deep green mountain ferns that covered the forest floor. The limbs of the man turned into what was left of his sister. He searched everywhere for everything that remained of her. He couldn’t—wouldn’t leave any of her behind in that forest. He spent that night cleaning up the entire area as if nothing ever happened, as if no creature ran through the dark and tore apart his sister in front of him. Everything he found left of her, he brought home to their parents before he disappeared from their lives.
As Daniel’s vision returned, he found himself seated in the snow with no recollection of falling to his knees and sitting back on his feet. His sister’s screams still rang through his head as he remembered where he was.
And what was next to him.
“I’m …,” he let out a deep shaky breath as he turned his gaze away from the torn apart man and back towards the bloodied beast, “what … what happened …” He felt something on his face—was it blood? His fingers reached up to wipe off whatever was on his skin, only for him to realize that he was crying. Why the fuck was he crying? “What’s … I don’t—I don’t know. What’s happening?”
—
Hazel sat shivering on the ground covered in nothing, but red. Her eyes were bloodshot and teary knowing that whatever her devil had done was really bad, especially to have Daniel pointing a gun in her face. Her eyes tracked the snow surrounding them and only saw a man torn to pieces along with another gun that had sunk down in the tarnished white powder that lay around them absorbing all the sound, except for her quiet sobs and Daniel’s trembling finger that hovered gently above the trigger waiting to fire hot metal that would end Hazel’s life.
And in that instant, though as confused as ever and completely heartbroken, some part of the twenty-three year old woman had wished he would pull the trigger. To close his eyes and sink his finger inward popping her right between the eyes, so it was quick and painless. Graymatter lost to nature’s surroundings along with every part of Hazel that made her who she was, including her devil and all the horrific things it had done when in control of her body.
Ms. Betty may have been a hindrance in Hazel’s life and made her miserable, but there had secretly been a part of Hazel deep down that had wished she had never been rescued. That all the nights spent on that dingy piss and shit stained mattress, that she had faded into nothing, but the animal and pet that Ms. Betty and her idiot son had wanted. But instead, Emilio and his calvary had come to save her. And she had to be grateful for that right? Grateful that they had freed her from her prison. One that was all too similar to the one her parents had kept her in nights on end when they had discovered what she was, when she was still merely a child at seventeen.
But if they hadn’t found her, and Ms. Betty had gotten her way, then maybe more people would be safe. More people wouldn’t be laying torn to pieces in a cold and snowy final resting place in the mountains left for Daniel to literally pick up, and explain to their families that an animal attack happened. Probably a bear or a wolf. Hazel despised that with every part of her being.
Hearing a thud and watching the gun fall from Daniel’s hands had caused Hazel to jump. And by the time she realized he wasn’t firing a bullet into her brain, she had seen him collapse to the ground. Watched as he fell broken and shattered by, what she could only presume was what she had done tonight, causing him anguish and torment. But little did she know there had been a more pressing matter. A deeper pain to his hurt, and one that was already going to rip her shredded heart further into nothing, “I…I don’t know what happened. When I...When I woke up, I was here. The last thing I remember was being in my kitchen at home…”
—
Her face looked frightened or tortured or something that stressed out Daniel. The look she gave him pierced through his chest as he wondered how much she knew about herself, about the monstrosities committed by her to innocent lives. She claimed to not know how she got here, how she now sat before him covered in blood, how she had gunshot wounds from the handgun behind them.
“Okay.”
He turned his gaze away from her and tilted his head up towards the night sky. Uninhibited by the town’s lights, the night sky glowed above them. Clouds coursed through the atmosphere and covered some of the stars, but Daniel spotted a familiar constellation that took ahold of his attention. The stars peered down at him, and he could hear how they whispered and judged him from up there—the same familiar stars that knew him as a sprightly child, as a rough and capable hunter, but now only saw him as the pathetic shell of a man who wished to cease existing. Another cloud partially covered the bottom quarter of the crescent moon. The moon stayed its words, not sharing what it thought of the hunter who stalked and killed his prey under it for over two decades.
Daniel’s hot breath formed into a fog in the air that lifted up to the sky. His warm salty tears dripped down the sides of his face. He felt them now, how each one pooled in his eyes and trailed across his skin. Why the fuck was he still crying? It wasn’t as though he was the type of man who refused to cry. But he never found himself shedding tears in moments like this.
And he especially never found himself numbed into sitting across from a killer beast whose heart still beat. Her beating heart thumped through his head like some sort of sick, torturous joke, as though it laughed at how weak he was, how he couldn’t lift up his rifle and fire it at her. Instead of shooting a kill shot between her eyes, he stayed still in the snow even as the frozen ground chilled his legs right through the bone, finding their way through the layers of snow pants and long johns.
His hands felt empty, and he glanced down from the sky to his gloved hands with the realization that he no longer held his gun. The rifle lay in the snow by his side. He reached out for it, and his hands wrapped around the cooled metal. He brought it to his lap without aiming it at her. He thought about the handgun behind him, so now he settled his gaze on Hazel, not wanting to remove his eyes from her again. He wanted to see every twitch of her body and watch her movements in case she jumped to run for the handgun. Even worse, if she shifted in front of him.
A quick thought jumped through his mind at the thought of her shifting. If she shifted, would he even fire right then? Perhaps let her tear him to pieces as he wished she had done to him years ago? Daniel often wanted it to be him rather than Maya (or even both of them so neither would live with this trauma). He only continued living to face off against this monster, but now he recognized how useless he was in the end. He preferred that she sink her teeth into his throat and shake him until his head dislodged from his shoulders.
He understood berserkers after years of researching everything he could about them. All he needed to do was take one shot at a spot he knew wouldn’t cause much damage, and she would shift for him and finally end his torture.
He tightened his grip around his rifle but didn’t move his hands to the correct placements to fire it. He didn’t even lift it off his lap.
“How—how do you not remember?” Daniel asked, uncertain if he was asking about him or the backpackers. “You’re covered in blood. How do you not remember?”
—
Hazel was torn between the thought of sitting in the cold and freezing to death or crawling to the corpse of the shredded man and trying to salvage some of his clothing, but her body refused to move. She refused to take her eyes off of Daniel, who sat quietly in the snow with tears still streaming down his face. Partly in fear of him trying to shoot her, but also because she felt like she didn’t deserve to move. She had once again taken innocent lives. Once again took something so precious that wasn’t hers, and she couldn’t even remember the action of it to fully live with the regret that she deserved to have. Instead, she could only look at the aftermath and imagine what she had done. Let her mind run rampant with such horrible thoughts that most days they sent her into a panic attack or left her curled up on her bed crying thinking how worthless she really was.
But now, right here in this moment, all she could think about was Ms. Betty, and how the woman had been right. Hazel was better off being her pet. Being chained up with a shock collar around her neck acting like a dingy stray dog taken in by a loving owner who was kind enough to give her a real chance of being valued. It seemed that ever since Hazel had been freed from the prison she was starting to see as a home, that nothing else had really mattered. She was a monster and always would be a monster. How could she ever think that anyone could truly trust or love her knowing that? She couldn’t lie to them. Wouldn’t lie to them. Just like her thing with Carin. Cairn was a sweet girl. She had made Hazel feel whole and seen, but she couldn’t go on pretending this case of puppy love was something that would ever amount to anything. Hazel had cared too much to make a meal of someone so innocent and unsuspecting.
The question caught her off guard. It had pulled her from the horrible thoughts that were currently racing through her brain a hundred miles an hour. How could she not remember? It was a valid question and one that held a lot of weight. How did she explain that to someone who had only seen the worst parts of her. The monster that liked to rage and kill and consume. But could, ironically, act like the sweetest overgrown puppy in the presence of those it trusted. The berserker had been like a parasite slowly eating away the good parts of Hazel every time she shifted, only to leave her longing for the truth; the only fulfillment coming from the satiated rage once the animal had given her her body back.
Through chattering teeth, she forced out words that broke between something audible and a whisper, “It-It’s like my brain shuts off when m-my devil takes over. A-And when it doesn’t want to be seen anymore…i-it gives me my body back.” It was the best way she could describe it, and she wasn’t entirely sure it made sense.
—
Her answer brought him back to where he was, refocusing him into the present situation rather than his messy past. He furrowed his brows together as he tried to understand what she meant by her devil. That meant very little to the ranger who wanted to roll his eyes at the mention of a devil. Daniel preferred to call her a disgusting, bloodthirsty monster.
(If he was being honest, he didn’t want to think about any innocent lives taken by his own hands. He had his moral code when it came to killing shapeshifters, but he sometimes doubted just how well that worked, if at all. Who was he to determine if someone should live or die? To play judge and executioner? Even with his moral code, the last few years turned into a sort of sketchy situation for him too. Sometimes he killed a shifter just to kill them. Sometimes he took up a bounty as he bounced between towns, not asking questions about why there was a bounty for that shifter. His only goal was to kill them, collect the cash, and move on to the next town. No time to worry about his moral code. But he didn’t have neither the time nor the energy to think about those things right then.)
The calculated side of Daniel returned as he kept his mouth shut rather than asking her what the fuck she was saying. He wanted to say something, to ask her a more specific question about why she thought of herself as a devil. Did she understand what she was? “A devil?” he finally asked. “You …” He trailed off, thinking through his words yet again. “Do you think you’re possessed by a demon or something?”
—
Hazel knew the question would come up sooner or later. In fact, it kind of already had. Why did she refer to the dog inside of her as a devil? The cold was nipping at every inch of her body, and had been a strong distractor, but she knew the answer. And whether or not she wanted to give it to him was up in the air. Of course, Ms. Betty had taken what she had believed to be the truth for many years and ran all over what her family back in Tennessee had believed. Sure, Talia and Maggie both had tried to explain to her that her devil was in fact a wolf, but Ms. Betty made sure Hazel knew she was really just a mutt. A stray. A good for nothing animal, that the older woman had planned to rehabilitate and make whole again. Just by means of manipulation and to shape Hazel into a weapon Monday through Friday, and a monster for show, on the weekends. So what was there stopping her to explain to Daniel her beliefs and what she had come to hold so precious to her over the years? It’s not like any of it really mattered anymore.
“I-I used to think that…” She shifted her body on the cold ground trying to get comfortable, frostbite threatening to nip at her bare skin, “M-My family…in Tennessee…they thought I was possessed, so I thought I-I was. How can you know what you are…if you can’t even remember changing into it?” She pulled her legs up closer to her body, sucking in a deep, quivering and hard breath as the cold inched into her lungs, “B-But my neighbor…she made it clear to me what I am…a monster…just some dingy mutt. I deserved to be with her. She kept people safe from me. B-But she’s gone now. So here I am.” Hazel glanced back towards the dead camper and the gun that lay just within reach.
—
Daniel stared at her as she spoke, thinking through what she said about her family thinking she was possessed. He assumed before that she must be from a berserker family—that she would know all about what she was. For a moment, he wondered if he knew more about berserkers than she did. His eyes followed her movements as she brought her legs closer to her, as he noticed the shivers through her body from the biting cold air. He felt no pity for her, out in the freezing elements without clothing to warm her. He wanted her to suffer, to feel the freezing temperature clawing its way through her skin and gnawing at her bones. “So your family isn’t like you,” he replied. “Human, I’m guessing.” If they thought she was possessed, they would have most likely been unfamiliar with the supernatural world.
His feelings hardened in anger as she continued speaking. Gone was the emotional wreck that left him weak at first sight of her. Emotions were a weakness in Daniel’s mind. The less he experienced, the better overall. He allowed himself to feel too much over these last couple months, but recent events reminded him that he shouldn’t allow himself to feel so much. He wished that neighbor of hers had done more than keep her and tell her that she was a dingy mutt. That neighbor should have killed Hazel when she had the chance. Daniel should have killed Hazel when he had the chance, years ago and when he first met her in Wicked’s Rest. Instead, his pathetic morals took over and told him to not kill someone—something unless he confirmed their identity. He should have put a bullet through her head in her cabin when they met.
“You are a monster,” Daniel said, his gaze unmoving from her, watching each slight movement as she glanced towards the man she murdered and the gun close to her. “You don’t fucking remember me do you? And I ain’t talking about that day we met.” He thought about how he was seated on the ground—vulnerable. “I know you, Hazel. At least, I know what you are. A fucking berserker.” He practically spat the word at her. “You murdered my sister years ago. I saw you kill her. Chased after you and watched you shift back into this,” he waved a hand at her, “Exactly like this. Covered in blood in the woods at night. I should have fucking killed you then.” He stood up from his seated position, eyes still focused on her, gun held tightly in his hands as he looked at her. “I should have killed you so many fucking times.”
—
“N-No. They’re not.” At least as far as she knew, her family wasn’t like her. It had been new information that she was more than likely adopted, and this had come from Talia. The one person who had seemed to know more about Hazel than Hazel, but apparently now Daniel did too. She hadn’t heard the word too many times, but there it was again, straight from his lips…Berserker. The word, itself, had sounded like rage incarnate. Like something crazy, evil, and wrong. How could someone who had been raised up by such good and loving people, be something so monstrous? It was a question that constantly lingered on her mind, despite those same good and loving people being the ones that had practically locked her away, tried to have an exorcism performed on her (before she managed to kill the preacher that had been brought in), and all shun her from their lives.
But Daniel’s confession and his words. The admittance of what she was, seemed to burn sharper than the cold that was turning her pale skin blue. You are a monster. A fucking berserker. Murdered my sister. I should have killed you. Each syllable quickly engulfed her mind and her soul like a massive boa constrictor wrapping around her heart prepared to squeeze until it exploded in her chest. And she could no longer feel air moving in or out of her lungs. All it had taken was the testimony of someone else she knew telling her that she was a monster, a murderer, to confirm what Hazel had already been sitting with since coming out of Ms. Betty’s basement…that she no longer deserved to be here, especially after the massacre at the drive-in. That she was more of a burden than she was worth saving.
As hot tears burned her cheeks, she looked up towards the man who had the gun tight in his grip. He could shoot her easily, if he had wanted to, and Hazel wasn’t sure what had been holding him back. But she didn’t want to ruin his life anymore than she already had. If he had wanted her dead, then so be it, but the self-hatred that she felt in that exact moment was nothing compared to the piercing-sharp glare he was staring straight through her. And Hazel knew what she had to do.
Her body was tense, and she kept her eyes trained on him, but without hesitating, Hazel unfolded her form and lunged towards the pistol the dead camper had been using. And then she realized his hesitation…If Daniel shot her in that moment, then he was a dead man himself, especially since he knew what she was and didn’t immediately kill her. The berserker was something Hazel couldn’t control. Something she couldn’t stop. Not when it felt threatened. And he was either going to take that risk or take the chance of letting Hazel get ahold of the gun and hoped and prayed that she didn’t turn the barrel on him instead.
—
Hazel moved quickly towards the pistol that Daniel had seen her eyeing, and his body moved in the same direction, ready to fire at her. Yet his finger, again, stayed still on the trigger. He was uncertain as to why when it would still be so easy. Even if he missed and her berserker transformed, he could keep firing and shooting until something hit it and killed it—or until it got to him and tore him apart. Either option would be acceptable to Daniel. It was not as though he had much to live for these days. Years of cutting himself off from his past—from his family and friends—led to him living in this period of isolation, a place where he floated through spaces and tried to not exist.
Only the issue was that he sort of existed here in Wicked’s Rest, and he disliked that. He disliked every single positive relationship he found in this town. Every single person who seemed to sort of like him or care about him—he wanted them to stop. He barely cared about any of them (although, when he thought really hard about it, he found himself making a few exceptions to his rule of not-caring or not-getting-attached (and that was the problem right? Getting attached to people led to him suddenly standing here in the dark night questioning whether or not he should shoot this fucking berserker. If he didn’t care so much about other people, if he didn’t let his emotions get in the way, then this would be a whole lot easier. If he could ignore the decades of blood that he dipped his hands in, then he could easily fire hot metal into the berserker before she shifted. Instead he had a quick second thought about the few people he did care about and how he didn’t want to lose them, which meant they couldn’t lose him.))
Hazel didn’t say anything in response to Daniel, and his chest felt on fire from her lack of answer. She didn’t remember him. She didn’t remember killing his sister. She didn’t remember any of that night, except possibly waking up alone, naked, and covered in blood in the woods. He understood berserkers didn’t remember their shifts. He was well-aware of that. Yet he wanted her to remember everything from that night. Or at least, be aware of what happened before he killed her. He needed her to know. “You tore her to fucking shreds,” he said. Even through his anger, he didn’t raise his voice, instead keeping a calm yet lethal tone as he trained his eyes on her. He maintained a straight face, a stoic appearance that contrasted his earlier weakness of emotions. “After I saw you, back in your human form, I left to go pick up all the pieces left of her. Had to clean up every inch of the area to make it look as though nothing happened. Packed her away in the back of my fucking truck to take her home. And I know she ain’t the first person you done that too. Certainly ain’t the last because look around us.”
Daniel kept his gun aimed at her even as she grabbed onto the handgun. “What are you gonna do with that, huh? Shoot me? Like I give a fuck.”
—
Hazel had managed to grab the gun. And though her heart seemed to pound fiercely in her chest as she reached out for it, anticipating him shooting her; the bullet never came. And now, she had what she wanted. What she needed. The means to end her own life. But he didn’t know that. He only assumed it was for him. Assumed that all the mistakes she had made in her life had been intentional. That she had deep down wanted to hurt people. Wanted to rip them apart and eat their flesh. It was all assumptions on his part, but he didn’t know a damn thing about Hazel, because he didn’t care to. He only cared about his revenge, and it was obvious in the way he continued to talk through gritted teeth. The way his voice hung low and cold. And with each word put out into the universe, it passed through the air and heavily over into her mind where it only further tore at her being. Her soul. The parts that were still good and whole, which wasn’t much, until it just didn’t seem to matter anymore.
“I didn’t grab the gun for you, Daniel. I grabbed it for me.” And without saying anything else, Hazel Grace Williams turned the barrel on herself. With the pistol aimed directly at her face, she let her eyes shift from him in all his anger and fury (someone who would’ve made a better berserker than she ever could have), and put her focus down the hollow metal tube. Slowly cocking back the hammer, the twenty-three year old sucked in the frigid air, her breath quivering, before closing her eyes and pulling the trigger.
The pop of the gun was loud and echoed through the forest until it was muted by the soft white blanket that surrounded the area. Warm blood had peppered the fresh fallen snow turning it a crimson red as birds had scattered from the trees they had been nesting in just trying to stay warm. And laying motionless on the ground was a twenty-three year old woman whose body was gently being covered in the wet flakes that continued to fall. Because even though life may have stopped for some, the world kept turning, and time continued to pass on.
—
The gunshot rang through Daniel’s head as he watched Hazel crumple onto the ground. She lay still on the snowfall with blood splatter surrounding her. The night fell into a silence that horrified the ranger as he moved his gaze away from the body of the berserker to the gun now by her side, still clasped in her hand. He released a shaky breath, the loudest sound he could hear at the moment.
He often told people how he loved the silence of snowfall on the ground. How the snow muffled noise and quieted the earth. Snowfall brought to him a peace and calm that he often wished for in his life—a peace and calm that could never be found with his life as a hunter. Even with the soft silence of snow, he still heard the softer sounds of the world around him (he thought about when he and Eve hunted the aravoes, how that silence sickened him due to the complete loss of sound. At least snow still provided some sound).
Despite the layer of snow, staring at Hazel’s body made everything so loud. He heard the winter birds flapping their wings to escape the sudden ringing of gunfire. Animals crunched through the snow as they ran away from the area. Even the tree branches swayed slightly as a nipping breeze played through them. His own heartbeat thumped loudly in his chest, neck, and ears. He swallowed, and the sound seemingly echoed through the night.
Daniel hadn’t expected her to turn the gun around on herself. Through his entire life of hunting, he never saw a shifter take their own life. They fought him until their last breath, right as he slit their throat or fired a bullet through their head. Never had he seen something like this. Never had he experienced a shifter referring to themself as a devil and then killing themself. It felt …strange. Odd. He didn’t know how to label it or how to feel about it. He closed his eyes for a moment, needing to look away from the very-human-looking body in front of him. But his closed eyes only showed him that moment when she pulled the trigger on herself.
He opened his eyes and rushed over to where she was. He kneeled down on one knee next to her, holding his rifle with one hand. He pried her fingers off the handgun and took it away from her, for whatever reason. He switched on the safety, removed the magazine, and shoved the gun and magazine into the side pocket of his hiking pack. He refused to look at the berserker, and he released a shaking breath as he looked at the blood drops in the snow next to her. This was not at all how he ever thought she would die, but he could accept this, he thought. He could probably be fine knowing that someone killed themself in response to his words.
“Fuck,” he hissed under his breath. Daniel needed to get out of here. He still needed to cleanup the campsite, get rid of any evidence that a monster tore it to shreds, but he almost wanted to leave it alone. Maybe come back in a day or two after he had time to deal with … whatever … whatever thoughts he was having.
Daniel turned his gaze towards Hazel’s body. Thump. A faint heartbeat. Not his own—his own overwhelmed his hearing and hammered in his throat. Fuck, his spine still ached in warning of some creature still near him. He heard the faint sound of breathing. He wanted to laugh—this berserker was as useless at killing herself as he was at killing her. He stood up from the kneeled position and gripped his rifle in both hands and aimed right at her head to finish the job. His finger was steady on the trigger and he pulled back—
Something wrapped around his waist—something sharp and hard. Spikes dug through his winter jacket and clothes underneath, poking into his skin. It dragged him backwards, away from the berserker, and up into the air. Daniel’s rifle fell from his hands, slammed onto the ground, and fired off a shot into the sky. He squirmed around and slammed his fists against the silver-furred beast that yanked him up into a tree. He recognized the spikes on the tail and the pulling up into the tree—a ball-tailed cat arrived at the campsite, possibly with the plan of finding some scraps to eat in the winter and instead discovering a living, breathing man who was too distracted to notice it.
His arms were at least free, as the beast dragged him. He couldn’t reach most of his weapons except for the small knife he kept in the breast pocket of his jacket. He pulled it out, ignoring the painful sensations coursing through his body as the spikes dug into his abdomen and back, as he felt drops of blood leaking down his body and staining his clothing. Daniel shoved his knife into the tail and cut a long line through it. The ball-tailed cat hissed in pain, but Daniel didn’t let up, digging his knife deeper, until he pulled out the knife and stabbed it again.
The beast released him, and he dropped from the tree onto the snowpack. He grunted in pain as he landed on his back. The ball-tailed cat stared down at him from where he now lay on the earth, and Daniel sat up. The cat leaped down from the tree, upset with how its prey carved its tail, and it landed on Daniel’s legs, digging its claws into his thighs. The cat climbed up his body, pushing its weight onto him as its claws dug into his chest, and it pressed him down on his back in the snow. It released a low growl as it snarled and revealed its sharp incisors that could easily tear into the ranger’s throat. Drool dropped down from its mouth onto his face, splattering across his reddened skin.
Ignoring every pain that rushed through his body, he reached for the dagger in its sheath on his hip. Daniel wrapped his hand around the handle and swung the dagger towards the cat’s throat, but the cat moved and the dagger slid into its shoulder. He grunted as he buried the blade into its shoulder before pulling it out. Fresh blood stained his dagger and coated the silver fur of the beast. It growled again and buried its claws deeper into his chest, but the ranger refused to cry out in any pain—decades of hunting and killing these stupid fucking beasts made him not want to give them any acknowledgment of his pain. He swung his dagger towards its throat as he ignored every screaming ache in his body, as he disregarded how the beast tore through his clothing.
—
The snow continued to fall onto Hazel’s body, coating it in a thin layer, but as quickly as it hit her skin, it turned to water. The crimson colored powder becoming a soft pink, before eventually disappearing altogether as the blood began to clot from the open wound on the side of Hazel’s scalp just above her ear. And like something being resurrected from the dead, Hazel let out a loud gasp as she awoke, shivering from the frostbite that was beginning to slowly set in after being without clothing for so long.
Groaning in pain, the young woman slowly pushed herself back into a seated position as the world spun around her. Her ears rang and any noises surrounding her were muffled. As she finally opened her eyes all the way, Hazel hissed from the light reflecting off the snow as a sharp pain shot through her head. Was this it? Was she dead? She couldn’t tell. At least not right away. Not until she heard the dampened commotion behind her. But turning around to see what was happening hadn’t come easily as her body seemed to be in shock from both the cold and the failed attempt at taking her own life.
As the realization began to sink in, tears pricked at Hazel’s eyes. Though she had desperately wanted to be done with this life. Rid of this world and all its immensely deep hurts. The feeling of being more of a burden and a murderer gone for good, there was something sparking deep inside. The universe…God, perhaps, had given her another chance. Another opportunity to change things in her world. And the small, but ever growing belief that maybe she did still belong here, despite what Daniel said. Despite what Ms. Betty had done to her. Despite what her parents and her siblings. Her ex-friends and the small town of Jasper believed. And despite what the berserker had done. Hazel was beginning to believe she had as much a right to be here as the next person.
Daniel wasn’t innocent. If he could so easily point a gun at her and want her to die, then how many other people or things had he killed. Ms. Betty lost her innocence when she had locked Hazel in a basement making her believe horrible things about herself. And her parents? God-fearing people who thought they were holier than thou and walked the Earth as saints were the furthest thing from innocent after passing judgement on their child. The truth of the matter was, that while Hazel had done some unspeakable things that she unfortunately couldn’t remember, in her waking life, the worst thing she had done was have beef with a woman who lived in tents and liked to steal cheese. And at that thought a hoarse laugh had slipped from her lips. Yes, life could feel impossible, but what about all the good that had come. Her friendships. People who cared enough to risk their own lives to save her. The taste of fresh grown vegetables from her garden. The feeling of the sun’s warmth whenever she went on hikes through The Pines. Laughing with her friends. The soft touch of Samson’s fur after Estella had graciously let her stay in her home when living alone had gotten to be too much. And the sweet kiss of Cairn’s lips meeting hers. There had been so much to live for. So much that she hadn’t gotten the chance to experience or learn about herself, and though the last several months had felt nearly impossible, she had survived them.
However, now, she would have to survive Daniel. If he wanted her dead, her wolf…not devil, not mutt…but wolf, would take care of her as it always had. And as she climbed to her feet, still weak and wobbly at best, she was met with a horrific sight of fresh blood staining the snow; hers having already faded, and Daniel being pinned by a huge silver colored cat with a spiked balled-tail threatening him.
If she had wanted to leave and save herself from his or the cat’s wrath she could. It was her chance, and with a grunt of pain, she turned her head back to see a clear path to freedom. She didn’t owe Daniel anything, despite what he had said. But the idea of leaving someone to die, when her wolf could probably do something to help wasn’t something she had wanted sitting on her soul. If the wolf was enacted by threats to Hazel’s well-being, which she clearly knew, it also meant that anytime it had ever killed anyone had been out of self-defense, and while Daniel may have seen the berserker side of her kill his sister, it didn’t necessarily mean that his sister had been as innocent as he had believed. But you can’t reason with a non-believer. Hazel had learned that long ago. And instead of dropping to her knees and praying for his soul, as she was taught many years ago by a set of hypocrites, she stumbled forward calling out to the massive cat. If there was going to be any chance of saving Daniel from this thing, it was going to take angering her wolf, and there was only one way to do that…
“Hey! You ugly, mangey cat! Leave him alone!” Humility had gone out the door after Hazel had shot herself, and why grab a dead man’s clothes, when you were about to be shrouded in a body full of fur.
Inching closer, she continued to yell loudly at the animal trying to get its attention, until she was close enough that she could throw snow balls at it. Surely, the sight of someone else’s blood had to be enough to get it to at least swat at her, and as she bent down to get another batch of snow, her request had been fulfilled when its spiked tail managed to strike her in the left side sending her flying hard into a nearby tree; blood oozing from the wound in her side.
The sound that had come from Hazel was heartbreaking at first, until it wasn’t. And instead, it was that of a deep, low growl from an animal that was twice the size of the ball-tailed cat. With barred razor sharp teeth and her head low, the wolf stood on all fours locked in on the silver feline ready to defend Hazel to the death.
—
The beast moved again and Daniel’s dagger dug into its shoulder. It howled out in pain as he pushed deeper into it, as he wished that enough pain would make it at least get off him and run away. But the ball-tailed cat was persistent as it turned its attention to his arm that held the blade, and Daniel released his grip on the handle right as the beast attempted to bite into his arm. He grunted as he kicked his legs up at the beast, ignoring every shooting pain in his body as he kicked into its stomach. The beast looked back at him right as he reached up to pull out the dagger from its shoulder.
As he was about to slash the dagger into its throat, yelling caught his and the beast’s attention. The beast turned to look towards Hazel who shouted at it. It responded with a swipe of its tail at her, and Daniel groaned as he realized exactly what was about to happen. The cat looked back at him like it was finally ready to take a bite out of him, pulling back its lips into a snarl as it leaned down closer. He cringed as its hot breath blew against his face and drops of saliva splattered on his skin. It hissed as it heard the threatening, low growl of the berserker and turned its head away from Daniel and towards the berserker.
He didn’t need to turn his head to know exactly what stood there. The large monstrous wolf would soon rip him to shreds after it killed the berserker, and Daniel needed out of this situation. The ball-tailed cat stepped off him and growled at the berserker, not wanting the other predator to come for its prey.
He took this moment to sit up, feeling the sudden rush in his head that blacked out his vision and made him dizzy for a second. He tried to stand up, but collapsed onto the ground. He slung off his backpack and grabbed his bandages to wrap around his legs that were bleeding out and staining his clothing. His chest and waist were just as bad, but he could only do so much. He grabbed the handgun from earlier and reinserted the magazine. If he was going to die from the cat or berserker, it wouldn’t be without putting up a fight.
He took in his surroundings, paying little attention to what the cat and berserker were up to. He heard the growling, hissing, and fighting, but Daniel already knew who would win that fight. He needed to get out of the berserker’s warpath. Climb! his mind screamed at him. He dragged himself and his hiking pack through the snow to the base of a tree. He looked up, knowing that somehow he’d have to convince his body to climb high enough to get away from the berserker. He grabbed a low branch and used it to pull himself up onto his feet. He gasped out in pain as his body warned him about how horrible of an idea this was. He reached down for his hiking pack and slung it over one shoulder. He couldn’t go without the supplies inside it, so it had to go up with him. One hand reached up higher to another branch, and his chest and stomach felt like they were about to tear open. “Fuck,” he grunted, as he forced his body to climb. His legs were practically useless, and he relied on his arms, on his hunter strength and instincts, to pull him up into the tree. Just a few more branches and maybe he’d be out of harm’s way.
He reached a branch that felt maybe high enough, and he rested his back against the tree trunk. His head pounded, his heart raced, and he could barely keep himself steady from where he sat. Daniel cried out in pain, finally releasing those feelings, as he took off his backpack and reached for more of his medical supplies. He had to react fast before it was all too late. He grabbed his satellite phone on accident and he stared at it for a moment before shoving it back into the pack. Later. Later he’d contact someone once he knew it was safe for them.
—
When the cat finally put its focus on the berserker, the large wolf knew it was time to fight. And without hesitating any longer, the two wild creatures went after each other in a battle for the ages. Between growls and snarls, barred fangs and spittle flying, it was a cinematic experience. At least for anything that saw it, which included Daniel and a few nearby corpses. And it wasn’t without injury for both animals. The berserker had let out a yelp of immense pain when the spiked tail pierced through fur and skin leaving the massive black wolf sliding across the snow covered ground on her side. A hit that had stunned the berserker for a moment, before she was back on her feet and galloping at the cat full speed, ducking and diving to avoid another strike.
And just as quickly as the smaller of the two animals thought it had the upperhand, the berserker had latched onto the cat’s hind leg sinking massive sharp fangs into its leg as she jerked the feline around, before sending it careening into the air only to land hard on its back. But there was no time to celebrate, because the wolf had to act fast if she wanted to pin the cat down.
And that she did.
Her massive paws putting all the weight down into the cat's body, the berserker felt the other animal repeatedly strike at her hind legs with its tail, but it didn’t prove much of a match as the wolf leaned down and sank its maw into the fur covered neck of the cat before violently pulling out a chunk of skin and silver fur only to leave the cat bleeding out, before exsanguination finally left the berserker’s snout, face, and chest covered in the feline’s warm, thick blood.
It was a battle that had proved successful, and once the wolf was finished, she stepped over the body of the dead ball-tailed cat. But there was one bit of unfinished business left…Daniel.
Raising her head and sniffing, the berserker let her eyes scan over the area, searching out the injured man. His blood was fresh and filled the frigid winter air with a metallic scent. It hadn’t taken long for the wolf to find what she was looking for. And perched in a nearby tree had been the man that had been a clear source of pain for Hazel earlier; that much the berserker knew. But when it searched for that same heartbreak it had felt deep down in the young woman earlier, it was gone. And so was the need to see this sad, little man as a threat.
Instead, the massive black wolf padded through the snow, and when she reached the tree, she looked up to find the injured hunter tucked away in safety. But his feet and legs had been at just the right height, so that if she had wanted to, she could simply bite down on an ankle and jerk him from his hiding place. But as she sniffed his dying form, the animal took pity simply letting out a guttural huff and a gentle nuzzle at his leg to let him know she came in peace, before turning and leaving him on his own, left to fend for himself now that the threat was over, and ensuring that Hazel would soon be back home and tucked safely into the warmth of her own bed.
—
Daniel pressed a bandage against his waist and groaned in pain. All of this was wrong, not at all panning out in a way he expected (not that he expected any of this to happen tonight), but he was not going to simply allow himself to die. His life was spent fighting tooth and nail until the end, and an attack by a ball-tailed cat was just another day in the office, even if he was worse for wear than usual. He rested the back of his head against the tree trunk, forcing himself to keep his eyes open and to apply pressure to his wounds. The sounds of the fighting monsters barely caught his attention as he focused instead on staring up at the night sky. He breathed in deeply, catching his breath and trying to calm his pounding heart.
The sounds of a fight ended, and he glanced over to see the berserker had won. “Shocking,” he mumbled sarcastically to himself, as he hadn’t expected any other outcome. He waited in the tree, watching as the berserker moved in closer to him. Daniel could try shooting it with the handgun he reloaded.
He didn’t feel any sense of fear or dread as she padded over towards him. He faced enough monsters in his life that seeing the giant wolf covered in fresh blood was nothing to him. At a young age, he learned how to face off against the illusions of bugbears and to not feel fear around them. Any sense of fear had been forced out of him so he could be a rough and tough fighter. Even now, when he tried to think of something he was scared of, he couldn’t really think of anything except for the deaths of those he loved—his own future death didn’t terrify him; his youth was wasted with the knowledge that he would die young. The face of death evoked little response in a ranger who had never feared it.
At least now, staring down at the berserker, he thought he’d lived a fairly long life for a hunter—thirty-six was a long time for someone who spent their days killing large dangerous beasts—some even larger than the berserker. Sure, he would never see his family again after disappearing from their lives for so many years, but he saw them enough, probably, when he was younger. Daniel didn’t care if she decided to kill him, and he didn’t bother hiding when she came over towards him. His legs dangled from the sides of the limb, and he wasn’t exactly in the condition to hide if he wanted. If she wanted him dead, he’d give her that but not without a fight. He reached into his backpack for the handgun right as he felt something rub against his leg. He grabbed the gun, looked down, and watched her … nuzzle against him? He didn’t point the gun at her—not yet—but watched in confusion as she rubbed her face against him. As he considered whether or not to shoot, she moved away from him and ran off into the night.
Daniel exhaled. What the fuck? He pulled out the handgun and tucked it into his jacket pocket. He rested his head against the tree trunk again and watched as his warm breaths misted in the air. He wasn’t dead, but he almost wished he was.
PARTIES: @irlsunbeam; @appalachiannightmare
TIMING: Not too long after this.
LOCATION: Estella's Home
SUMMARY: Desperate, Hazel runs to Estella’s after realizing what her mutt has done after the surge.
WARNINGS: Panic Attack tw
Hazel knew it was late, but she couldn’t stop banging on Estella’s door hoping she’d answer. Samson had certainly heard her and was barking and scratching. And as she stood there frantically knocking, dressed in nothing, but the jacket she had found at the drive-in, she was hoping and praying that no one would see or hear her, “Come on, Estella. Please be home. Please, please, please be home.”
Never had her mutt done anything like this. Nothing this major. Almost the entirety of the drive-in had been destroyed by the havoc the berserker had wreaked. And Hazel could only imagine what other mischief the massive wolf had gotten into. But how would she ever make amends for this? For herself and all the people she had hurt in one ferocious night of rage. It had only solidified the words that kept popping back into her mind that Ms. Betty had told her. That she was a monster, and she was safer if she hadn’t been around.
—
She was finishing up a bath when she heard banging at her door. It sounded urgent, and so Estella quickly got up, thankful that her hair hadn’t been washed today, threw on her nearest set of loungewear, and darted down the stairs. She was grateful to no longer be glowing, and a bath had seemed the best sort of way to remind her body of the comfort of her more human form. She wasn’t ashamed of her true form and never would be, but it was startling and unnerving not to have any control over how she presented. As someone who cared more than she liked to admit about her appearance, it made her feel shaky. At least Monica had been around this time. She’d have to message her soon, make sure she was feeling her best self.
Maybe it was Monica, banging at her door. She rushed down and pulled the door open. Not Monica, but another close friend of hers. “I – Hazel?” She stared for a moment, wide-eyed, open-mouthed. “I – are you alright?” It was a stupid question to ask but she asked it nonetheless. “Do you want – you can come in.” It was the least she could do.
—
By the time Estella had answered the door, Hazel was nearly hyperventilating. She couldn’t stop crying and the invitation to come inside was immediately met with a panic that was setting in more and more with each moment. And as she stepped through the threshold, she laid eyes on Samson, who was now pawing at her, “Estella…I…I…” She couldn’t get the words out as she paced back and forth, and when she finally managed to stop walking, her eyes were set on her friend, “I did something really bad…I mean…my mutt…me…”
Hazel closed her eyes wishing the world would fade away along with the memories of what she had seen, “My mutt…It hurt a lot of people. The drive-in. They’re all…dead…” She reluctantly opened her eyes to see Estella’s reaction; still trying to process if what she was feeling and what had happened was actually real, and not just in her head.
—
Hazel was shaking, and Estella knew that Hazel was a nervous sort just by nature. That didn’t bother her, not for a single moment, but it was unnerving to see any friend of hers all shaken up. But she could offer shelter and she could offer comfort and food, if Hazel was up for it. There was plenty that she could offer, and that included silence if that was what her friend needed. That included whatever her friend needed. She just needed to figure out what that need was first.
Her friend mentioned her mutt, and if Estella’s body had been capable of processing iron, then she would have felt her stomach turn to just that. Of course, that wasn’t possible, but the feeling was there, discomfort and all. “It’s okay.” Her body shivered at that comment, nausea set in, but she worked through it. She wanted it to be true, and that had to count for something, didn’t it? “I’m so sorry.” That was the best she could do, right now. “You’re safe here.” She held her hand out to her friend. “Let’s go in and sit down.” It was the very least she could offer. The absolute very least.
—
Hazel knew confessing this to Estella had probably been more than a lot. She had just confessed to the murder of many people via her mutt, and she couldn’t remember any of it. Her heart was pounding so hard, that Hazel thought she was going to pass out from the sheer effort the muscle was putting in alone. And when the offer to sit had come about, she nodded softly, and walked towards the couch with small sobs escaping her lips uncontrollably.
“I-I don’t know what to do, Estella. W-What do I do?” Hazel trained her eyes on Estella, before sending them to Samson. Life had been simultaneously harder yet easier with Ms. Betty. She didn’t have to think. Didn’t have to worry about hurting anyone. It was all taken care of. But now there was no Ms. Betty. There was nothing, but her having to rely on herself, and the news Talia had given her about a berserker elsewhere in the world was looking more and more satisfying. But getting there would be the problem. Getting there without hurting anyone. If she even deserved that chance at this point.
—
“You come in and you sit down and we breathe, first. Nothing’s going to be possible if you don’t breathe.” Hazel wasn’t human, but she did need to breathe. Estella didn’t know all too much about people who didn’t need to breathe, and that wasn’t important right now (she also very much did not want to think about that, right now). Right now the only important thing was making sure that Hazel was alright, and then everything else could be dealt with later on.
She moved to go to her couch, picking up Samson along the way. “You didn’t mean to hurt them though, right?” She might have been a fanciful sort of person, but things would always tie themselves back to logic, if she could. It was part of why she was so insistent on the existence of fairytales. They were real and so they had to be. Which was probably, perhaps, some sort of illogical circle of logic, but that didn’t matter. Right now, Hazel was the center of her world and she was going to help her friend out. “You’re a good person, Hazel. Heroic. I – well, I wouldn’t go to the police. I don’t think you can really trust them, not here. Too many of them are human – or at least, I assume they are – and I don’t think they’re the cool kind of human like my brother is.” Estella made a face.
—
Estella was right. Hyperventilating wouldn’t get her anywhere, but probably a crumpled up heap on the floor. Instead, Hazel sat down on the couch and started to inhale as much air as she possibly could through quivering breaths. And the slower she breathed, the better she began to feel as the oxygen was starting to reach her brain again. Just slow…deep…breaths.
When Hazel was feeling much calmer, she wiped her eyes, “N-No, I would never want to intentionally hurt anybody, e-especially that many people. I-I didn’t mean for this to happen, Estella. Honest. I don’t know what came over my mutt. One minute I was at home and then the next I’m standing in the middle of a drive-in and everyone around me is d-d-dead.” She had struggled to force the words out, but confronting what she had done was the only way she was going to be able to figure out her next move, “T-Then what I do, if I c-can’t…” She paused. “Should I leave town?”
—
She watched her friend, her whole body feeling tense and anxious next to Hazel’s incredibly anxious stance. Estella placed Samson in Hazel’s lap. Sit with him, feel his weight on your legs and let that ground you. Techniques she’d had to teach herself by herself. Her mother tried, but she could be flighty at times. Her father didn’t care, unless it was in public. So she’d taught herself and besides, there were very many heroines of fairytales who’d had to learn things all on their own. So it wasn’t bad that she had to. Just a simple fact – and facts were what she dealt with most after all.
“You don’t need to know what came over your other self.” Which was easier said than done. Even when she was in her true form, Estella knew that she still had a good deal of control. Of course, that hadn’t been the case with the recent blackouts, but locking herself in her home and pulling down all the blackout curtains did wonders for dealing with that. Was all that she’d really needed to do. Hazel, she understood, was different. When she didn’t look human, she didn’t have as much control, and on top of that, she’d been locked up by a truly deplorable human and that couldn’t have done anything good for her skills or her confidence. “Do you want to leave town?” She bit her lip. “I don’t want you to leave, for whatever it’s worth. I think you are very loved here, but it’s not about what I want.” No matter how much she wanted it to be, sometimes. (Most of the time.) “It’s about what will make you feel best and feel most at ease.”
—
When Estella placed Samson in her lap, Hazel closed her eyes and let her hands run over his fur. The advice was absorbed into her soul like water to a sponge. And she sat with it all. His body weight. The softness of the fur. Quieting her own breathing so she could listen to each breath he took. She had even inhaled the scents around her, which were warm and inviting. A good reminder that she was back at a place she had felt safe, when she had come to stay with Estella for a while, not long after she had been freed from Ms. Betty’s basement. It felt like home again. With a person and many animals that loved her and enjoyed her company.
As her heart rate slowed and the tears seemed to cease for the time being, Hazel opened her eyes, letting them adjust once more to the light and her surroundings. Shifting her gaze from what was in front of her and down to Samson, she took in a slow and deep breath finally managing to ground herself in the moment, just like Estella had asked her to do, “I don’t know. I know there’s a lot of unanswered questions about my life that I still need to figure out. Talia told me about a place. In the Ozarks. Another person like me…a…berserker.” She wasn’t sure how much Estella knew about berserkers, but even if she had asked, there wasn’t much Hazel could really tell her about something she barely remembered shifting into or why it had been so much worse this time.
—
She hoped that she was doing something to make what Hazel was going through feel a little smoother. A little better. She believed in magic as much as she believed in almost anything, but she knew that she couldn’t fix everything all with magic, no matter how much she wanted to. What Estella did know, however, was that Samson made things easier for Hazel, and even if there wasn’t anything else that she could do, she could let Hazel hold Samson and maybe then, at least a few things would be okay. That much she did hope for and did believe in. Always would. She liked believing in the inherent good of the world. It was a beautiful thing to believe in.
“I can’t say I know much about berserkers, but I can understand the urge to go out and try to find more people like you. I,” she sighed, “don’t know how rare my type of nymph is. My mom’s one, but other than that I’m not sure, and I know it would be hard for me to pass up the chance to go and meet and talk with one if I knew where one was.” She looked down, trying to choose her words carefully. “I’m selfish though.” That could be an understatement, at times. It was still important to admit. “I don’t like when people I like leave. I won’t make you promise to come back, I don’t want to take any more of your agency than you’ve already had taken. But can I ask that if you do go, you’ll come back?”
—
Hazel had learned about Estella in the short time she had lived with her. But the most important thing she had learned was just how big of a heart and how kind of a person her friend had been. And when she had learned that Estella was more than just a human, it had given her a bit of relief. The entire town had been filled with different types of people, and the more she realized that, the more it had started to feel like home. But if she continued hurting people without knowing how to control what she was, then that wasn’t good for anybody, especially not the ones she had come to care about the most, like Estella.
“I know not to make promises, but if I go, I will be back. This is the first place I’ve ever really felt like I belonged to.” Well aside from the past month’s events. “You all have become my family. More than the people I thought were my family. But I can’t keep stayin’ here if there’s a chance I’m gonna hurt somebody I care about.” Hazel looked down and focused back on Samson. The pain in her heart from what she had done to all those innocent people was threatening to resurface, and she didn’t want to burden Estella with it anymore. But she would keep the grounding technique in mind, especially when she made it back home to the emptiness of her cabin.
“Thank you, Estella. For just sittin’ with me tonight. And for lettin’ me pet Samson.” She leaned down and gave the dog a kiss on the top of the head, before gently passing him back over to her friend, “I best be goin’ now. It’s gettin’ late, and I want to get home before anything else might happen.” Once Samson was with Estella, she leaned in and gave her friend a hug.
—
“I’m glad you know not to make promises.” She felt intensely relieved at that. This way, Hazel wouldn’t be taken advantage of. At least in that way. Unfortunately, Estella was all too aware of how easily Hazel could be taken advantage of in other ways, but if she could help her friend out at all, then she’d do it, no question. That was what she needed to do, that was what she was meant to do. It didn’t even occur to her that there were alternatives. Because to her, there weren’t. “I understand.” Her stomach twisted and she felt a wave of nausea come over her. Because she didn’t really understand any of this, but it was easier to say that she did. Because she was the girl who understood things.
That, and she didn’t want to stress out Hazel. Her friend was already so tightly wound up that Estella was afraid if she added any more stress her friend would snap like a worn out rubber band.
“Of course. Anytime. To both of those.” She wrapped her arms around Samson and looked up at her friend. “Text me if you need anything. Anything.” She repeated herself. A little extra emphasis didn’t hurt. “I’ll see you soon.” She said it, and it had to be true. That was all that she’d accept. She squeezed Hazel into the hug for perhaps a few moments longer than need be. But she’d save some of that feeling for later. Pocketing joy was never a bad thing, and hugs like this were always filled with joy, even if the initial reason that led up to them wasn’t so joyous.
PARTIES: @muertarte; @appalachiannightmare
TIMING: Not long after escaping Ms. Betty's basement.
LOCATION: Hazel's Cabin
SUMMARY: Metzli and Fluffy come to check on Hazel after the whole Ms. Betty incident.
WARNINGS: Emotional Abuse tw, Grooming tw, Suicidal Ideation tw (brief)
The last place Hazel wanted to be right now was anywhere. She wanted to disappear and sink down into nothingness. Wanted to melt away from existence and all the mixed and intense emotions she was currently drowning in. Pity for the people who had captured her and abused her. Fear of ever trusting anybody again, and that had even included the people who had saved her life. Flashbacks of being electrocuted, having cold water dumped over her for a bath, eating like a dog, which she had truly become to believe she was. Her devil was no longer a devil; just some filthy mutt murdering innocent people.
Hazel had truly felt disgusting, and no amount of prayers or studying the Bible that had been shoved back into her bedside table could help. And today, the first day she had felt like taking a real shower, left her standing under scalding hot water trying to scrub the dirt from her already bruised and battered raw skin.
Now, she sat on the couch with her knees pulled in tightly with nothing but an oversized t-shirt on covering all the places on her body that were stark reminders of Ms. Betty and Jean-Ralphio’s reign over her, occasionally letting her hand slip up to raw and burned flesh that made the perfect reminder of the collar that had been around her neck.
—
Metzli's skin itched and their eye twitched every so often. Remnants of the shock collar's effects when they fought to remove it from Hazel's neck. Thanks to Lil and the rest of the group, they'd been successful in getting Hazel out of the clutches of a monster. Now though? Their poor shifter was left with the weight of what had happened to her.
In an effort to share it, the vampire made their way over to her house, a small cooler in hand and Fluffy trotting along next to them. The cooler contained a few items of food, but also some ice packs and salve Hazel could use to alleviate some of the irritation her wounds may be causing. They hoped it was enough, and knocked on the door. Fluffy let out a small boof and circled around himself in excitement, making Metzli smile softly as they waited patiently outside.
—
The knock on the door had caused Hazel to jump, and the beating of her heart in her ears had sent her back to the first night she had woken up in Ms. Betty’s basement, scared and alone. But it was the small bark just beyond the door that pulled the girl back into reality and away from the basement she thought she would be confined to forever.
Easing off the couch with a groan, she padded to the door and quickly set her eyes to the peep hole to see who was outside. Seeing Metzli, it had taken Hazel’s brain a minute to process the face, but when she did, she unlocked the chainlock, deadbolt, and doorlock. Opening the door, she quietly stepped back noticing her friend had brought a plus one. And with a small smile, she allowed both Metzli and the small dog into her cabin, before going back to the couch and pulling her knees back into the same position she had been before, no words for Metzli. Just the assumption that they could make themself at home.
—
When the door opened, it was a little startling to see the state Hazel was in. Her exhaustion was deeply set, the experiences she'd had weighing her every step. For a moment, Metzli wondered if they looked the same, not long ago. They'd both escaped something awful, had been forced to sacrifice parts of themselves that now left them broken, and were left to grapple with the consequences of someone else's cruelty. There was no erasing it, but Metzli hoped they could ease the intensity of Hazel's pain.
“...” They attempted to say something, head falling with disappointment when only a sigh tumbled out. With a few deep breaths, Metzli kept themself steady and followed Hazel inside. Fluffy did the same, tag jingling as he made his way to the couch.
He behaved like the space was his, hopping up and nosing at Hazel's elbow a few times before giving up and curling next to her. Metzli smiled, placing the cooler on the coffee table. They took out a few of the ice packs and laid one at the back of Hazel's neck, arranging the rest on the table before taking out their phone and typing out a message to show Hazel. Where does it hurt? I also have salve for your neck. It will help the pain.
—
Hazel wanted to retreat within herself, despite Metzli being there, but when Fluffy joined her on the couch, she couldn’t help, but loosen her rigid position, moving in closer to the small dog. There was a kinship there, both innocent, but twisted, thanks to Ms. Betty forcing Hazel to completely rewire Hazel’s brain and the views on her life and who she was. But Fluffy was warm and soft; a stark contrast to the ice pack that sent a sudden chill down her neck, but soon relief followed.
Reaching her hand up to hold the ice pack in place, she watched as Metzli typed something on their phone. If Hazel was being honest, her entire body hurt. From head to toe, but it was so much more deeper. Her soul hurt. Thankfully, the aspirin that Izzy had left on her porch had helped and though her arm still throbbed and ached from it previously being set by Talia and Metzli days prior to this, it hadn’t been her first rodeo with a broken arm. Still, there wouldn’t be full relief, until the effects of being drugged with wolfsbane for nearly a year had completely worn off, “Everywhere. But it is what it is, right?” She shot Metzli a weak smile, before focusing on Fluffy, “Thank you for bringin’, Fluffy.”
—
Of course, Metzli wanted to say, but instead only produced a soft nod of their head, their expression contorted with concern. Fluffy's head perked up and tilted curiously, a few sweet kisses offered on Hazel's hand before they nosed it for pets. Metzli huffed a chuckle, twisting the jar of salve open. It clacked on the table and the vampire swiped a glob up and applied it to the red skin of Hazel's neck.
With it set, the vampire sat back to assess their work. Their smile was small but hopeful, relief sinking their shoulders. The physical pain of what happened to Hazel would heal, and although the emotional and mental pain would take longer, she had the space to do it now. Sighing, Metzli retrieved their phone and asked, are you hungry? I made soup.
—
Hazel’s focus on Fluffy had been an immense help, when the glob of salve had been applied to the berserker’s neck. It stung briefly causing her to let out a hiss, but with the softness of the small dog, she was quickly relieved. All that Metzli had done with this entire Ms. Betty situation would forever mean the world to the young shifter. She had found more love and care from people she had barely known, who knew exactly what she was, than with her own family. Still a concept she oftentimes struggled to wrap her head around, but each and every day gave her the courage to slowly start letting go of people from her past.
Looking down at Metzli’s phone, Hazel scanned her eyes over the message, “Yeah. Soup sounds good. Thank you.” She sent a small smile in the other person’s direction. The idea of having real food again, and not a can of processed animal parts had felt strange. And the first time she had eaten something other than bland, ground up beef, chicken, and pork parts, it was like an entire world of flavor had once again opened up to her. The limitations of what she thought she deserved melted, just like a dog having table scraps for the first time.
“Are you doin’ okay?” It wasn’t much, but she had heard that Metzli had gone through something horrific themself, and though Hazel had closed herself off from everything and almost everyone, it still didn’t mean she wasn’t concerned for her friend’s wellbeing.
—
Hazel accepted the soup, which was quickly heated up in the microwave. A few cycles of popping in and taking it out to stir around the heat, and it was ready to consume. Tiredly, Metzli brought over a tray and set it in place for Hazel, circling back to retrieve the soup and put it down for her. It was hot, obvious by the steam dancing upwards, but Metzli knew Hazel could handle herself. She still had another arm she could use.
To answer Hazel's question though, the vampire shook their head and waved off her concern. Keeping her energy on herself was more important, and there was no way Metzli was going to take away the attention ahead needed. Don't worry, they typed and left the phone on the tray for her to read while they settled into their seat. Fluffy climbed into their lap on request, leaving Hazel enough room to eat.
—
Hazel watched as Metzli did their thing. After all the time spent in Hazel’s kitchen, she was grateful her friend knew their way around. But more so, as the food started to heat up and the smell floated in her direction, she could feel her mouth start to water. It was only when the food was sitting in front of her, that she was nearly tempted to lean over and lap it up, but she recalled the spoon and picked it up hoping that Metzli hadn’t noticed her slip up.
Glancing over, she set her eyes on Metzli, “Well, I hope you’re doin’ okay. Thank you again for savin’ me. I don’t even want to think about what would’ve…” Hazel let her eyes drift from Metzli back to the soup in front of her, without finishing her thought. It was a question that constantly popped up in her mind. If Metzli, Talia, Emilio, Estella, and Lil hadn’t shown up, Hazel wasn’t entirely sure where she’d be right now, “This is really good soup. It’s the first thing I’ve had in a while that…um, isn’t for a dog.” The confession felt weird to say as tears came into her eyes, but she kept her head low and focused on the meal.
—
Metzli recalled the dog bowl, the way Hazel was treated less than a person and given the luxuries only a pet could enjoy. She was no commodity. She was not only an animal. Simply, she shared a body with one, and that fact didn't make her any less a person than anyone else. Looking over at Hazel, Metzli took a deep breath and let the relief of her safety wash over them.
There is more in the cooler, they typed on their phone and left it for Hazel to read like before. It was frustrating to communicate only in pixels, but they hoped to find their voice again once their grief made enough room for it. Until then, Metzli counted on the notion that actions spoke for themselves and their proficient skill at taking care of those they loved.
—
Hazel listened as Metzli had inhaled deeply. It was loud throughout the quiet cabin, aside from the sounds of the girl sipping on her soup and Fluffy letting out a sigh of comfort as he relaxed next to them both on the couch. Though silence mostly hung in the air, it wasn’t awkward. In fact, it was somewhat relaxing. Just being in the presence of another person had made Hazel feel like she had mattered. Lonely wasn’t so lonely when you had company no matter how messed up you may have felt.
Leaning over and looking at Metzli’s phone, Hazel took in the message, before looking up at her friend, “I know I’ve said it many times, but thank you, Metzli. For everything you’ve ever done for me. Here and now. And in the past.” Her heart was as full as it could be, despite feeling incredibly broken on the inside. But her belly had always seemed to be full of good food when her friends were around. A simple act of kindness that she constantly clinged too, because a reality without people who didn’t see her as an animal, meant that she deserved to still be here. Deserved to still be a part of society and not locked away for the monster she really was or worse.
PARTIES: @infinityandmadness; @appalachiannightmare
TIMING: Sometime in the Fall
LOCATION: Gatlin Fields
SUMMARY: Hazel throws an apple intended for someone else, but accidentally hits Bellamy instead.
WARNINGS: None!
The apple that Hazel had so carefully carved a sweet note into had been intended for a regular customer that came into the Video Vault all the time. It had been a guy around her age that was always so friendly and talked about movies and music with her. Someone she had a slight crush on since things had been so up-in-the-air with Cairn. And she knew that, of all the people here, he’d probably get a kick out of having an apple chucked at him. But when the time had come to throw it, Hazel had almost backed out. Would he like her back? Was she wasting her time? All the normal questions that had plagued her mind in the past when it came to crushes, Oh come on, Hazel. Just throw the darn thing. What can it hurt?
Her eyes trained on him as he was laughing and cutting up with some of his friends, Hazel finally made the daring decision to throw the apple as hard as she could at him. Watching as it sailed through the air, she was already trying to figure out what to say to him after it had made an impact, but just as it was about to smack him on the chest, Hazel saw the browning fruit hit someone else in the arm. A complete stranger that she had never seen before.
“Son of a hair filled biscuit!” The words slipped out from under her breath with a growl of frustration, and she could immediately feel her cheeks turning red from embarrassment. The apple that was meant for the regular from Video Vault had made contact with a stranger that she knew nothing about, and she was just about to turn and run, when she was blocked by a group of people who had decided to stop and talk right behind her.
—
It was just meant to be a quick trip out to town, grab a few things, say hi to a few friends to let them know he was alive, then quickly back home. That was it. He could do that. A quick excuse to explain he was busy with yard work should do it. It was meant to be quick.
However, it turned out to be a three-hour venture, and when he was finally free of that, he was hurriedly meaning to make a quick escape back home. Unfortunately, the path to that quick escape led right through some current Halloween activities that he wasn't really planning to stop by. Unless his friends had wished to during their hangouts. Which the maze and walking around where strange leaves' were seemed to be on their list. No matter how quickly he was trying to make his way through the mess of people and events, it wasn't quick enough, it seemed. As just as he had just been passing by one booth, something hit him in the arm.
Stopping, it had stung a little bit, like someone was trying to throw the thing with all their might. His eyes scanned the ground quickly for what it might have been, finding some nasty-looking apple on the ground with some words carved into it. He hesitated for a fraction of a second before crouching down to pick the browned apple up and try and read what was written on it, before hearing someone cursing. Looking over, he frowned a bit before moving toward them. Holding the apple to one side casually as he came to stop by Hazel, he looked at her, “This your apple? Wow. Are you like, a secret admirer or something?” He had never had one of those before. Though this was all just teasing, he could not imagine that this apple was even intended for him. No one admired him in any way to warrant this kind of…affection?
—
Hazel so badly wanted to melt into the ground and fade away from existence. It would’ve been the better option than what was currently about to happen in 3…2…The words cut through her embarrassment like a butter knife through jam. With so much ease mixed with a little tease. All because Hazel had wanted to impress some boy with a stupid rotten apple that said “be mine” or something along those lines. When she had finished writing it, it looked far from what it was supposed to, so how this guy figured out her intention was beyond her, but he had.
She wanted to duck, dodge, and run, but he was already talking to her about it, “Yeah, it’s mine. And I really want to say yes, and not hurt your feelin’s, but I don’t know you from Adam. It was meant for someone else. My aim is just horrible.” Her cheeks were bright red. “Apparently it’s some weird town tradition. You take an apple. Carve a message into it and throw it at the person it’s meant for as hard as you can. I think you might have a bruise later.” She glanced down at his arm, before looking back up at him, “Can I buy you a cup of hot chocolate or apple cider to make it up to ya?”
—
Bellamy laughed a little at her needing to explain to him that he was a stranger. Nodding his head a bit, because the joke didn't fully land? Though, tilting his head slightly, he turned the apple over a little in his hand, “I did expect as much.” He wasn't much of a known entity, to be admired, even secretly. He understood that, absolutely! Bellamy frowns a little, thinking over what Hazel had said next. This was a tradition? What a weird one it seemed to be. He had never heard of it. But that didn't mean it was possible. He just was that much of a shut-in and isolated from a lot of things.
“Never heard of such a thing. But it seems like it's still going strong.” Though as she explained how the tradition worked, he exhaled, not really needing to know those details, but listened kindly regardless. Then he smiled and looked at his arm where the apple had struck him, “Yeah, it certainly will. You have a nice, strong throw!” He tossed his head a bit, tilting his right hand slightly from side to side, “Aim could use a little more work, though.” But that was his next question. She was there, she was aiming at someone. She hit the wrong one. But then, where was the right target?
Looking around, he made a face at the offer to get drinks before saying, “Sure, you don't want to try again with your intended target? Might get away?” Holding the apple back out to her, grinning still, he continued, “But a drink would help soothe the sting.”
—
Hazel had felt horrible. This guy seemed nice enough. He even seemed a little familiar, but she couldn’t quite place from where. Never had it crossed her mind that they had spoken on the internet before, “I haven’t been here all that long, but this town does carry some weird traditions.” She shrugged and looked around at all the people chucking apples at one another. Did the local hospital see an uptick in patients around this time of year? She couldn’t help but wonder as she watched someone get smacked in the nose with a rotten apple causing Hazel to flinch, “My aim might be bad, but at least it’s not that bad.” She motioned to the person who was now nursing a possibly broken and bloody nose.
Hazel turned her attention back to her unintended target seeing the apple being offered, “Uh, yeah, no. That’s okay. Not lookin’ to bruise anybody else with rotten fruit.” She laughed. “Besides, I think maybe you were the intended target, accordin’ to the universe. Might have put us together for a reason.” She took the carved apple and tossed it in a nearby trashcan, “I’m Hazel.” She wiped her hand on her jeans to try and get some of the sticky off, before offering a firm handshake to the man.
—
At her comment on the town having some weird traditions, he blinked and nodded his head, tossing it lightly, “Yeah. It's likely to become even more unusual, given this place. Always seems to be something, every other day around here.” He clicked his tongue then, shifting his body oddly and tossing out one arm a bit, “Ow.” He managed with a small wince, as it was the arm that had been hit with the apple earlier. It was certainly going to bruise later. Moving his other arm to his sore one, he scrunched his face a bit and nodded his head, “My arm would probably say different.” Grinning, cute, he looked to one side, staring over at the other people, “It had a lot of power behind it. You sure you weren’t trying to kill this other person?” He teased.
Bellamy smiled, laughing a little, “Yeah. These things don't need more reasons for people to get hurt.” Though at the next thing Hazel said, he made a face, not quite sure what the universe might be thinking about all that, “Oh. Well, the universe might be drunk.” He jokes, then. Sure that it would be amusing, “So, I guess we'll need to figure out what the inebriated universe has plotted for the two of us, hm?” Glancing to the trashcan, then back to Hazel, he bowed his head a bit in greeting, “Bellamy.” Moving his right hand from his arm to take her offered one, he shakes her hand, “Maybe I'm supposed to be your wing guy or something like that?”
—
Hazel noticed Bellamy wince in pain. Never, in her life, had she expected to injure somebody with an apple. But the joke about killing the other person had made her blush, and not for the reasons he probably thought. Hazel, even though it had taken time, had become aware that her devil was capable of killing people and had killed people, but whatever was going on with her body right now, had been a clear indicator that the killing had thankfully stopped. So if chucking an apple at someone and bruising them had been her worst crime, for the time being, she’d gladly take it, “Well I may have a mighty strong throw, but I think your arm is gonna be just fine.” She laughed.
Hazel had been grateful that the person the ‘drunk’ universe had decided to stick in her path had been so nice. There had truly been some real jerks in the world, especially around this time of the year. And though she did feel bad for wounding him…Bellamy, she was appreciative of just how good a sport he had been about the whole thing, “Bellamy. I like it. It’s different, and it’s officially nice to meet you.” The young woman pulled her hand back and began moving forward slowly through the crowd, “I don’t think I’ve ever had a wing guy before. Could be fun. I’m sure there’s a lot of trouble we could get into in this town, so it's always nice to have backup.” She shot a look at him, before laughing.
—
Taking a small note of her blush to his joke, he tried not to give it too much attention. After all, they were talking about her intended target. Surely she had not planned to kill them. He hopped lightly, pushing himself up onto the tips of his feet briefly, lightly patting his hands to his sides, listening to Hazel as she spoke up a moment or so later. Bellamy nodded his head to this, “Oh. Yes. It should. But if it rots off in the night, I'm going to send you the bill.” He continued teasingly, “Though, having a cybernetic arm, that would be interesting!” Bellamy bites down on his lips then, narrowing his eyes in thought. Though to be honest, it was not at all that painful, it would bruise, and there was some soreness, of course. But it would heal very quickly.
At the comment on his name being different, he raised his eyebrows a little, “Ah. Yeah. I think it is kind of an older name. French. Though now I suppose it's more known, because of that show The One Hundred?” Then, he laughed lightly, “No. I don't think I've ever been a wing guy before. But, fate's tossed us in this mishap for some reason. We might as well figure that out.” Bellamy shifted a little, even if it didn't mean he would link the two together, he was in the story for now, even if probably briefly. A short-staying, inconsequential side-character. Bellamy looked back at Hazel again, “Oh. Yeah! There's definitely a lot to get up to. I look at the news every day, and you won't believe what some people do, or come up with!” At times, he thought he might be living in a storybook! Nodding in agreement to what Hazel said, “Absolutely, a little backup can go a long way.”
—
She snorted at his comment about his arm falling off, “I don’t think one measly rotten apple is gonna make your arm fall off, but I guess a cybernetic arm would be kinda cool.” Definitely be great for some of the things that go on in this town. “And might give main character energy, rather than the sidekick vibes.” Hazel nodded in his direction to confirm her idea, before setting her sights back in front of her. The last thing she had wanted to do was run into somebody or step on their foot. Hurting one stranger for the day far maxed out her quota.
“French. Mr. Fancy over here with his soon to be cybernetic arm. Maybe I should let you chuck a few apples at me.” Hazel laughed despite knowing that someone throwing apples at her would only anger the non-existent devil that lingered in her body. Thankfully, at this moment, there wouldn’t be anything it could do as it still lay dormant, which had still worried the young woman, but was something she was learning to live with, “In this place, I think I could believe it. But you know what? I propose we go get food, before we start our vigilante crime-fighting ring. My treat with the hopes that you won’t sue me over a rotten apple that may or may not have left a bruise and stained your clothes.” She sucked her lips in stifling a laugh as she started to walk a little faster, clearly guilty of her assault with rotten fruit.
—
He blinked, pulling his head in and making a partially silly face at that, “I don't knoooow. You see some of the weird stories around here. I can see the headlines now!” He grinned, pausing a moment before starting, waving a hand through the air, “Apple thrown, strange infection injected. This apple has teeth. A man today has lost his arm due to a poisoned apple with teeth biting him-” He stopped suddenly, looking at his arm, “Oh nooo. Loook! It I can see the teeth marks!” He laughed then, shaking his arm out a bit as he lowered it, making a few cybernetic noises, wiggling his fingers at the end of his hand.
“Hm? Nooo no. Definitely a sidekick. Though having a sidekick with an arm that is a multitool. That would be very cool.” He grinned at her, calling him fancy, “Yeah! I guess it's pretty fancy.” Though he had wished he could ask his parents why they chose a name like that for him, was his family even French? No. Clearly not. Right? No. Bellamy just had to live with the fact that, maybe they just liked the name, “I don't chuck apples at people. It's against my code. I will shut down if I throw an apple at anyone.” Nodding at this, joking, he smiled, looking away, keeping an eye on his surroundings.
“You know, I like that idea! Food would be nice right now.” Bellamy agreed, bringing his right hand up to caress his chin thoughtfully, half-exaggeratedly, “Deal! I will not sue you for some food.” Gesturing then with his right hand too, to let her lead the way to a place.
—
Hazel laughed as he spoke about exaggerated headlines and how his arm was already starting to change. Despite the horrible things that had happened since coming here, it had been the people that had made a difference, and that’s what had mattered the most, “Apples with teeth? Come on? Are you serious?” Though there were apples with teeth in Wicked’s Rest, Hazel had never seen one, and at this point, she had hoped she never did. There was enough weird stuff going on in this town and in her life to last more than a lifetime.
“You’d be like that Inspector Gadget character from way back in the day. I’d be callin’ you day and night to open jars for me or unscrew blown light bulbs.” Hazel had thought about her name. It definitely represented the south. That was for sure. “Bellamy and Hazel. Sounds like some kinda sitcom or reality show. They could film your bionic arm, and me starin’ straight into the camera makin’ commentary. But with that kind of strength, you do know that you’d be king of the apple throwin’ contest, so suck it up, Buttercup. We got work to do, to get you ready for next fall.”
Hazel could already feel her stomach growlin’ something kinda fierce as the thought of a nice juicy cheeseburger came to mind. Taking his invitation to lead the way, she walked ahead of him, quickening the pace a bit. While her intentions of the day hadn’t gone the way she had planned, the path she did end up on had been just as better. Bellamy may have met her through a bruise and a rotten apple, but he was probably the sweetest person she had come across in a while, and she wouldn’t trade that for a boy she thought was cute, much less the world.
PARTIES: @taliasshaw; @appalachiannightmare
TIMING: Not long after escaping from Ms. Betty's basement.
LOCATION: The Pines
SUMMARY: Talia and Hazel go for a walk that leads to some important life decisions being contemplated.
WARNINGS: Emotional Abuse tw, Grooming tw (both of these are alluded to after Hazel's time spent at Ms. Betty's.)
When it came to helping Hazel, Talia was at a bit of a loss. If the last week had proven anything to her, it was that she had been correct in her assumptions that she was not healed enough to be a help to anyone else. It was clear with Metzli, and it was clear in the aftermath of the surge, and it was becoming clear with Hazel. As much as she wanted to be a comfort and support to her friends, Talia fell short at every turn.
But that didn’t mean she was going to stop trying. She couldn’t, especially where Hazel was concerned.
Talia had decided to try something that helped her often enough: a calm, reconnecting with nature. She wasn’t sure whether Hazel was still without her beast (her guess would be yes, considering it hadn’t made an appearance in all of…everything that had happened), but a quiet, easy hike would be good for humans, too.
“If you need to stop for a break, just let me know,” Talia said, keeping her tone as gentle as possible. “And I have plenty of water and some snacks, too.” Hopefully, this could just be…a stress-free nature walk.
—
Hazel still hadn’t adjusted to life outside of the basement. Her mutt, no longer a devil, hadn’t come out since Hazel had been taken in by Ms. Betty, mostly out of the protection for Hazel and the immense fear of what might happen if she had disobeyed. It had taken time to remember that Talia, Emilio, Lil, Metzli, and Estella had come out of love and goodwill for Hazel’s well being. And even though Ms. Betty and Jean-Ralphio were gone, Hazel still found herself curling up on the floor in the corner rather than sleeping in a bed.
Quietly walking alongside Talia, Hazel took in the sights and sounds around her. Being back in nature had been one of the best things that had come out of the rescue. She had missed being free to roam the woods. To take in the sights and sounds of the world around her that had been brighter and full of life; rather than the dingy and dark basement she had been stuck in for what seemed like an eternity despite it only being a little over a week.
“Uh, Talia…” Hazel stopped moving and looked over at the other shifter, “How long was I in there again?” It was the first thing she had said in a while, since their walk had begun, ignoring the offer of snacks and water. Her mind resorting back to the dog food and dog treats she had only been allowed to have.
—
Talia tried not to perk up too much when Hazel asked a question. She was elated that the girl had finally spoken up, but didn’t want to frighten her or put too much pressure on things. This was supposed to be an easy outing. One that would hopefully offer Hazel some much-needed freedom and comfort. If Hazel had wanted to stay silent the whole while, that would have been fine too. “How long were you with Ms. Betty?” she clarified. Maybe it was too soon, but Talia was of the opinion that dancing around the facts of what happened would only give it, and those involved, more power. Better to just name it out in the open.
“It was about a week and a half, sweetheart.” And Talia hated herself for every hour that Hazel had been there and she hadn’t done anything about it. “She took you not too long after your dinner party, and that was just two weeks ago.” Two weeks that had felt like an age, for all that had happened. Just coming off of getting Metzli free, straight into the magical surge that had run rampant through the town, and then the chaotic whirl that had been getting Hazel out of Ms Betty’s basement. (She didn’t want to think about all that had happened in that basement.)
They rounded a bend in the trail and Talia held back a low-hanging branch so the girl could move through more easily. “Did it feel like longer?” Talia prompted gently. She wasn’t trying to pry, but if Hazel wanted to talk about anything that had happened to her, she was going to leave that opening there for her. Whatever Hazel needed, Talia wanted to be able to provide. She just wished she had a better idea of what that might be. Until then, all she had to offer was some time out in the wilderness, a listening ear, and a shoulder to cry on.
–
Everything had been so fast and so slow during her time spent in the basement. Sleep had been the only thing that had made things a little easier. That, and the squeaky toy that she was finally allowed to have and to curl up with. She could recall the countless number of times she had rested her cheek on the soft fabric of the toy. The way it had given her some comfort and warmth despite being surrounded by darkness and cement. But waking hours were the worst, especially when Jean-Ralphio would come down in place of Ms. Betty.
Hazel let out a hitched breath trying to shake off the thoughts as Talia’s voice pulled her back into the present. How could something so short, feel like such a long time? Tears had quietly threatened to spill from the brims of her eyes, but Hazel refused. She didn’t deserve to cry anymore. At least that’s what she was told, no matter how bad she resisted the urge. She had killed people. She was a monster.
Quickly wiping her eyes, hoping Talia wouldn’t notice, Hazel replied quietly, “It felt like a lifetime.” It was all she could muster. All she could say at the moment. Words didn’t come often now. Not as freely. And there had been very few people she had trusted. In fact, the list had been the names of the people who had saved her. Any past relationships she had started to build had crumbled, except for Cairn. That one was on rocky ground, but there had been something within Hazel that just couldn’t let that one go for the time being.
—
Talia’s heart ached when she saw the tears beading at Hazel’s eyes. She could hear the quiet catch in her breathing, smell the salt of her tears. It didn’t matter that Ms. Betty was dead; that meant nothing. Not when Hazel was still in so much pain. (Talia refused to think what that might mean about her own revenge crusade.) What else could Talia offer as a solution or comfort? Just a walk in the woods. And her hand, stretched across the trail they were on, offered out to Hazel if she wanted to take it.
“I’m sorry,” Talia finally said, throat raw. “We should have gotten there sooner. I’m sorry we didn’t.” Her apology didn’t matter. It didn’t change anything, but she wanted Hazel to know that it was their fault they hadn’t gotten to her sooner. There was nothing that Hazel did wrong, there was nothing about her that had kept them from getting to her sooner. It felt important, to Talia, to give Hazel the reassurance that she had been worthy of being saved from that situation from the very beginning. But she didn’t want the girl to linger on that thought for too long either, so she quickly changed the subject.
“How are you doing, at your place?” Talia hadn’t thought Hazel staying back at her home was the best idea, necessarily. She even briefly considered explaining the situation to Daniel so Hazel could stay with her instead. But in the end, Talia’s cabin was little more than one large room. Spacious enough, but with hardly any privacy. It didn’t seem like the best environment for the kind of recovery she might need. Talia had decided to make do with frequent check-ins on the berserker.
“If you need anything, or ever want any company, you just have to let me know. Or, let any of us know. I’m sure all of us would be more than willing to come hang out.” After all, they had all been willing to roll up to Ms. Betty’s place with barely any plan and even less information to go on.
—
Talia’s words were of some comfort, but believing that she deserved to be saved was something Hazel was going to have to learn to live with. She knew the mutt inside of her did unspeakable things, and while the realization had come that Ms. Betty had been responsible for suppressing that side of her for so long, almost giving Hazel a chance at a normal life, it only soured when the twenty-three year old had ended up in the older woman’s basement being treated anything but normal, especially with the memories it had brought up from past experiences with her own family.
Glancing down to see Talia’s hand, Hazel hesitated at first, but soon reached out and grabbed onto it. Hazel’s hand was hot, as if burning with the underlying rage of the animal that was now starting to show through again. A temperature the berserker had once gotten used to, but was now readjusting to since her body had been off for so long. But, unlike the warmth of her hand, the girl’s grip was soft and somewhat fidgety, as she walked alongside Talia.
“It’s not your fault. It’s not anybody’s fault, but my own for goin’ over there thinkin’ I could do somethin’.” The words came out quietly, but the change of subject was much appreciated, “It’s alright. Sometimes I get scared at night, but I’ve got my squeaky to keep me company.” It was pitiful at best, but there had been no point in putting on a show for Talia. She just didn’t have it in her anymore, “I’d like that…company. I ain’t got much in the way of food or what I can offer, but I do have a bed you can sleep on.” Since coming from the basement, Hazel had still found the floor more acceptable.
—
Talia was happy, and maybe a little relieved, when Hazel took her offered hand. She wanted to help, desperately, but there was so much she knew how to do. Giving some small measure of comfort was one thing. Her palm burned, but Talia was no stranger to people with strange body heats – even Daniel, normal human that he was, tended to run warmer than other people. Talia was sure, though, to not hold on too tight. She didn’t want Hazel to have any reason to feel uncomfortable, or to sink back into the experience with Mrs. Betty and her basement.
“It wasn’t your fault either,” Talia was quick to interject. She knew that it would take a lot more time for Hazel to believe that, but she wanted to be sure she said it. “Not anyone’s fault but hers.” There were monsters in the world, Talia knew that. Not beasts, like her and Hazel, but true monsters, whose cruelty and lack of sympathy had twisted them into something much worse than any beast or creature could ever hope to be.
“I’m glad your squeaky helps.” Maybe it was a little concerning, Hazel clinging to the object that her captor had given her, but it was more important, to Talia, that it worked. If the squeaky toy helped calm Hazel down and keep her from being scared, and it wasn’t really endangering her, then who the fuck cared? “If it’s ever not working, though, give me a call. You’re not that far from me so I can get there quick.” A smile spanned across Talia’s face as they walked together. “Don’t have to offer me any food. In fact, I have a friend who cooks really well. Maybe I can get him to make something and I can bring it over.” That might be nice, she thought – a little sleepover.
“How…are things with your beast? Is it back?”
—
Hazel had noticed that Talia’s grip wasn’t too tight, which she had appreciated. It didn’t feel like her being tied down and trapped with nowhere to go. That had become a legit fear for the young shifter now. The idea of being chained down or trapped felt suffocating, and though she had lingered inside after everything had happened, scared to come out; being out in nature had once again felt freeing. Like she could breathe.
“I-I guess you’re right.” Though everything inside Hazel was telling her that Talia was wrong and Ms. Betty had been right, Hazel knew she had needed to start letting things go. But her cheeks burned and her heart ached from her brain fighting with her heart. It would take time, and there wasn’t a defined answer of what that timeline would look like; but Ms. Betty and Jean-Ralphio were gone. And Hazel wasn’t. And neither were her real friends.
“Thank you.” She continued to walk alongside Talia, her eyes on the ground taking in all the small crevices, cracks, and stains on the ground from the leaves and snow, “I’d like that. I think much more than the dog food.” She looked at Talia with eyes that contradicted the tiny smile on her face. But the smile dropped, and so did Hazel’s head, when her mutt was brought up, “It’s…I-I don’t think so. It hasn’t tried to come out yet, cause my arm is…my body still hurts. Not as bad as it did. When my mutt is around, I don’t feel pain like a normal person does.”
—
Talia took the hint of the smile as a sign that Hazel was joking about the dog food. Even if the rest of her face didn’t really seem to be. “Definitely better than kibble,” she teased back, but with a voice softer than flannel. “You just tell me a day, okay? And I’ll be over with tupperware and ice cream.”
She nodded but didn’t say anything, not yet, when Hazel answered about her beast. Talia had to consider the issue at hand first. There were really only a few options, at least as far as she could think of. The first was to check in with Rosemary and see if there was anything magical at work. As far as Talia knew, there wasn’t really a spell or curse that was powerful enough to keep a shifter from shifting. (But then again, that was what her parents had told her, and they had been obsessed with strength, and the perception of strength. Maybe they had only been lying to themselves.) The other idea was likely to be a lot more fruitful, and that was to get in contact with Jacob. Talia wouldn’t do either without checking with Hazel first.
“Do you remember I told you about my friend who’s a berserker?” It felt like ages ago now. Ages since she and Hazel had met out on Lisey’s Peak and battled first each other and then that mountain lion. “He has this pack down in the Ozarks, in Arkansas. It’s…not like any other pack I’ve known, really. All different kinds of shifters, most of them without anywhere else to go. But he’s really wise and I’d trust him with my life. And, like I said, he’s a berserker. He might know something about your…problem.” The trouble was, Talia wasn’t exactly sure how to get in contact with Jacob, other than trekking down to the packlands yourself. But she could worry about that once Hazel had mulled the thought over a little.
—
Hazel nodded at Talia’s offer. It would be nice having company. Food. Ice cream. Movies. Something to take her mind off of everything. And while it was mostly what she had been doing, there was always that struggle to focus. The idea lingering just below the surface that someone was going to snatch her up again and take her away never to be found. There were other hunters out in the world after all. Not just Ms. Betty and her idiot son.
As Hazel continued to walk alongside Talia, she listened intently, and nodded when Talia’s friend had been brought up. The last time Hazel had heard about him felt like a lifetime ago. So much had changed, and while she couldn’t exactly remember anything that had happened before the conversation about the other shifter’s friend, she had vaguely recalled the reveal that there had been others out there like her; which had definitely come as a shock at the time. But now, hearing he had an entire pack, made Hazel stop in her tracks.
Another berserker with a pack of strays? That meant there had to be others out there like her right? Someone she could go to for answers? Hazel’s heart raced at the thought of learning more about who she was and where she had come from, “Could I talk to him? Your friend?” She looked at Talia hoping that she would be able to, despite how nervous the idea of it made her.
—
Hazel was so earnest, so hopeful, that it nearly broke Talia’s heart. “You could, yeah,” she said, tone trailing off a little. “It’s just that I don’t really have a way to get in touch with him.” Someone in that pack had to have a satellite phone or a PO box set up somewhere, but Talia hadn’t gotten that information before leaving. As far as she was concerned, she wasn’t going to be heading back that way. And if she was, if she needed to, she had the coordinates marked on a map.
“I can tell you where they are, if you’re looking for a road trip.” Talia said it half as a joke, but the more she thought about it, the more it sounded like maybe what Hazel needed. Despite her worrying, Hazel was an adult. Hell, she had come all the way to Wicked’s Rest on her own. And now, after all that happened, maybe some time away from the town was just what she needed. “They’re not hard to find, really, if you know where and what you’re looking for.” And the chances were that someone from the pack would pick up on Hazel’s scent and guide her along.
“Jacob’s real nice,” she reassured, with a smile. “I… I’d hate to see you go, and I’d miss you like hell. But I think he might be able to help you. And if he can’t, he’ll be bound to know someone who can.” That pack operated as well as they did because of Jacob’s wide and willing network of friends, shifter and otherwise, who offered help in whatever shape it was needed.
—
Hazel’s heart sank when Talia revealed that she didn’t know how to get in touch with him. There had been her shot, and her shot was quickly disappearing. At least until Talia had mentioned a road trip. Was Hazel really up for venturing out on her own again? Settling down in a town that was almost starting to feel like home again, just to pack up and leave was a scary thought. But also, that same town had become tarnished with the horrific acts Ms. Betty had committed, and more importantly, the ones she had committed herself. Maybe leaving Wicked’s Rest was for the best. But could she really trust herself being out on her own after all that had come to light?
“I…I don’t know. It’s…I know I came here on my own, but this is becomin’ my home, and I know people here.” The world was a scary place, and it had become less scary, but now, it felt more nightmarish than ever. But Talia wasn’t wrong in what escaping the memories that haunted her from this town could do. It would be a fresh start. It would give her answers, and it wasn’t like she couldn’t come back. For once, in quite a while, Hazel was starting to feel hopeful.
Swallowing the knot of emotion threatening to come loose, she looked into Talia’s eyes, “I don’t know if I’ll actually do it. But I’d very much like to have his information. You, Emilio, Metzli, Estella, Lil, some others in this town…Cairn…” It was the first time she had spoken out Cairn’s name to anyone else, and it felt strange, but inviting and warm, “You’ve all become my family, and it’s the first family in a long time that I’ve truly felt safe with. I don’t want to think about losin’ any of you, but I think you’re right…about needin’ this.”
—
Talia could see some of Hazel’s enthusiasm sap when she explained she didn’t know how to get in touch with Jacob and she herself deflated some. It wasn’t the first time she had wished she got some kind of contact information for anyone in that pack. Not because she was heading back, but just because Jacob had been such a light, a breath of fresh air. It would have been nice to keep in touch with him. But never had Talia wanted it so badly as she did then, for Hazel, to help her. “I don’t blame you for not wanting to leave,” she said softly, stopping on their path. She should have offered to go with Hazel, she knew. That would have been the right thing to do.
But there were things, people, here in Wicked’s Rest that Talia wanted to stay around for, too.
Another smile, bright and warm, rose over her face. “Hey, you know Cairn, too? That’s great. She’s a real sweetheart.” Actually, the more she thought about it, the more Cairn and Hazel had in common. She was glad, then, that they had found each other in whatever capacity. “I have the coordinates for the pack written down, back at my place. I’ll send them to you later today. And if you do decide to head out there… Just let me know. Let me help you, anyway I can.”
That was all she could offer, at the moment. Maybe in the summer, if Hazel hadn’t gone and come back by then, Talia could offer to go with her.
—
There were a lot of questions running through Hazel’s mind, and now there were even more. But it was starting to all feel overwhelming. She had just escaped from a life or death situation not too long ago. And she still needed time to figure things out and settle from that, but having this offer on the table had seemed to bring some kind of relief in a strange way. It was like maybe the universe was willing to open up just a tiny bit to give her more answers. And while her mind so badly wanted to push out the good and thrive in despair and self-pity, she didn’t let it. Not at this moment.
Instead, Hazel continued her walk, “Yeah, Cairn…she’s very special to me…” We even kissed. Well I kissed her, and I think that maybe I might have scared her away. Actually, now that she was thinking about it. Letting the picnic with Cairn soak in a little more, would the other woman even still want Hazel around? She shrugged the thought off as Talia continued to talk, “Yeah, yeah. I will. Probably I’ll need another pep talk, if I do go through with this.” Her words were uneasy and filled with uncertainty, but there was one thing she was certain of. Talia had just opened up a momentous opportunity for Hazel to learn more about her life, and she knew that she’d be a damned fool if she let it slip by. She just had to figure out if Wicked’s Rest was still worth hanging around for.
PARTIES: @pagingdoctorhart; @appalachiannightmare
TIMING: Late May
LOCATION: The Pines
SUMMARY: While out for a jog, Hazel runs into Mickey (literally) and then the pair run into bananshees (also literally).
WARNINGS: None!
Morning runs when the sun was just breaking over the horizon was one of Hazel’s favorite things to do, especially when sleep wasn’t as kind to her as she had hoped it would be. But the feeling of the wind in her hair and the instant release of the adrenaline pumping through her body put any chance of her devil coming out for its own purposes at ease. It was also convenient that she lived in The Pines, and the chance of any kind of traffic, be it foot or car on the roads was often rare. However, this morning had proved to be the exception.
With Måneskin blasting in her headphones, Hazel kept up a steady pace getting lost in the music, and before she realized she was doing it, she was playing the air guitar as she was running down the road. So much so that she didn’t see the person coming up ahead. And with her pace continuing with the tempo of the music, the young woman slammed into the other person and went flying through the air, before landing on the ground and rolling into the weeds on the side of the road.
Gathering her bearings and shaking off the stun and shock from what had just happened, she quickly realized it was her fault which put the looming monster inside of her back in its hypothetical cage, before it could become anything more, “I am so sorry! Are you okay?” Grabbing her headphones out of the brush and turning off the music, she hurried over towards the other person hoping they were okay.
—
Mickey really needed a better method of avoiding spirits than noise cancelling headphones, apparently. He was too easily distracted. Canceling out the one sense that he actually paid attention to was not doing him any benefits. It had led to his ankles nearly being taken out by Drew and her longboard, and now it had led to him crashing into some other random girl and practically launching her into orbit. Or at least some nearby bushes. The collision had knocked him backwards, attempting to catch himself mid-fall which really did nothing other than put an uncomfortable pressure on his already bad leg. The sacrifice had been for nothing anyways, as his leg slipped free and he fell flat onto his back. His headphones had stayed firmly on his head, which was actually pretty impressive given the circumstances.
Mickey chose to lay there on his back for a long moment, considering just accepting his cruel fate and decaying into the grass. He would never actually do that, the mere thought threatened to drive him insane with boredom, but he considered it nonetheless. After a moment too long lying there he realized his professional obligation to check on the health of the other victim of the crash. He lifted his head up slightly to catch her crawling from the bushes. Oh good, she was mobile. That was a great start. He shook his head trying to shake the headphones free before finally relenting and using his hands to pull them off of his ears. “Peachy keen, jelly bean” Mickey gave her a thumbs up and then propped himself up on his elbows, not quite ready to assess the level of leg pain yet. He could see the large scar along his thigh where his running shorts had bunched up from the fall and groaned internally. “My last remnants of sanity broke my fall. How about you? You sorta… flew.”
—
Hazel felt horrible for what she had done, and her eyes couldn’t help but notice the scar on his leg, “Are you sure you’re peachy keen? That wipe out you took was pretty rough.” Kneeling down into the grass, she watched him closely. The last thing she had wanted was to take someone to the hospital because she was playing the air guitar a little too passionately, “And it’s alright. It’s not the first time. I used to play soccer in high school, and there were a few times I’ve flown. A few times other people flew too…and that was on purpose.” She laughed softly remembering some of the best days of her life and the aptly earned nickname of “Mayday” she used to wear proudly.
Standing back up and brushing herself off, she reached out a hand, “If you're sure you’re okay, I wouldn’t mind some company for the remainder of my run…or walk. We can walk. We should probably walk.” It was still early and the summer heat wouldn’t strike until around noon, so getting to know someone new in town while it was still cool out sounded like a fun way to spend the first part of her day, that is if he wanted to, “And, sorry, that is totally if you want to. I would understand it, if you wanted to call it a day and never see my ugly mug again.” She sent the man a nervous smile.
—
“If I tell myself I’m peachy keen enough I think I’ll convince my muscles eventually.” For now, they were in vocal protest of the title, but Mickey had ignored much worse pain than this. His leg would get over it just as it had countless times before. “Besides, this isn’t even the first time this has happened.” He really needed to rethink his headphones and running philosophy. “Soccer, huh? That explains the power behind the collision.” He was still lying on the ground, but he was at least smiling. “I was a hockey kid, myself. Not a lot of flying, but plenty of checking and bodies shoved into hockey glass.” Mickey had never been as passionate as some of the other players were when it came to checking, though. He had always been a pacifist.
Mickey accepted his fate in the form of taking the girl’s hand, gladly taking the assist to bring himself vertical again. Once up, he gave himself a second for the dizziness to pass before he shook out his bad leg and took a few test steps. It felt like a wheelchair with a rusty wheel, but that wasn’t out of the ordinary. “Not too bad, actually.” he grinned at her. The thought to offer his company had already crossed his mind, but she had beaten him to the punch. Finally, somebody that didn’t combat the idea of friendship at every turn. “Absolutely. Nothing bonds people more than mutual injuries. People in the ER bond all the time.” His excitement for the friendly face had already started to outweigh the pain he had felt, much to his leg’s dismay. It attempted to fight back as Mickey started hopping back and forth excitedly, but Mickey had long forgotten it. “Absolutely. And I’m not just saying that. First thing to know about me is that I don’t get lying unless it’s for a punchline. So I wouldn’t say I wanted to if I didn’t actually want to, just like I’d never lie and claim that mug was ugly.” Mickey used air quotes for extra emphasis, “And the second thing you should probably know about me is my name, I guess. I’m Mickey.”
—
Hazel was glad to see that the repetitive thought process of the words “peachy keen” had started to do their job. She really hadn’t intended to run into the man, but sometimes getting carried away in her own little world is what had kept her sane after many years of being alone and being on the run, “I think at one point, it became a game to me…How much force can I put behind the bodycheck I give the girl tryin’ to steal the ball away from me. But hockey sounds fun. Seen some mighty nasty fights via youtube videos. My brothers used to watch them all the time.” She didn’t know much about hockey, except that Nashville’s professional team was called the Predators, and that their mascot was a huge cat. But her brothers sure loved them, and the Titans…which she couldn’t understand why they had liked the Titans, but that was an entirely different story.
Gripping Mickey’s hand tightly, Hazel leaned forward and pulled him up with all her strength, and then watched as he tried to hop out the pain, “Funny how hoppin’ or shakin’ injured limbs seems to do the trick most of the time.” Anytime she stubbed a toe or hit her arm on something, she’d shake and curse the pain, and just like magic, she was usually healed, “You do have a point about hospital bondin’. Ironically, when I broke my arm after fallin’ out of a tree when I was just a youngin’, I ended up meetin’ my best friend…well ex-best friend, at the hospital.” She could vividly remember that day. She could also vividly remember the day Winter broke her heart.
“Well you know what, Mickey, I appreciate you sayin’ my mug ain’t ugly, and I guess you should know my name is Hazel. And I promise not to air guitar so hard that we run into each other again on our…whatever this turns out to be.” She laughed, excited that she wouldn’t be going on her run alone, “So, whereto Mickey, who doesn’t lie unless it’s for a joke.”
—
“I can attest that the force is pretty strong, so great job. I’m sure you were great.” The checking and violence of the sport had never been the draw for Mickey, but it was an unavoidable reality of hockey. It was why he likely would have never made it into the pro’s, even if he had never been injured. If Mickey was the type to look at the glass as half full - and he certainly was - he’d say that the injury was almost a blessing. Saving him from future disappointment. But considering the circumstances of that particular injury, he wasn’t quite ready to claim that. “They can be. It was never really my thing, honestly. I’m more of a lover than a fighter. But an injury ended those chances anyways.” he slapped against his leg as evidence, the most brutal of the scars he had endured was just visible peaking out from his shorts. “Your brothers were hockey fans? Hopefully they were also soccer fans and supported you.” he shrugged innocently, not quite sure how that whole sibling dynamic was supposed to go. He had been an only child during his sporting years and once adopted he mostly played the cheerleader type.
“Ah yes. The gate control theory. I am quite familiar with it. Provides a much needed distraction from the pain.” Mickey was all too familiar with distracting himself from pain, but that was far too deep of a conversation to have with a stranger. Mickey didn’t even have those conversations with his actual family, despite being like ninety-nine percent an open book. “Absolutely. What else do you do in a hospital besides randomly bond with someone else stuck there? If it’s not a patient it’s a nurse or doctor or someone. Anything to distract from the soap operas and jello.” And then, partly because he liked making conversation and mostly because he was nosy, “There a lot of drama behind that ex best friend title? I’m familiar with the concept.”
Mickey felt the usual twinge of excitement he got at the prospect of a new friend. He was hoping to try out this new concept where he actually became good friends with people instead of playing best friends for a single night and never speaking to them again. A few run ins lately had made him consider that he could actually sustain a real friendship at this point. He wondered if this new girl, Hazel as it turned out, could be one of those. “Pleasure to meet you, Hazel. Even given the circumstances. Just livens up the meeting.” The sibling of a fae in him cringed at the word promise, but something else superseded that concern, “Let’s not get carried away. Air guitar should very much remain on the table as an option. Let’s keep an open mind, yeah? You haven’t even seen my sick air triangle skills yet.” He used one hand to hold a fake string and his other to hold the fake beater and give a single little tap. It made him look insane, but that was a risk he was willing to take for a bit. “I say let’s find that path you were on and follow it, yeah?”
—
Hazel was already starting to really bond with Mickey. He was funny, friendly, and didn’t make her want to flee in the other direction. Her devil had also seemed very calm around him. It was the perfect combination. Maybe playing air guitar more frequently would lead to more friends as long as they didn’t get hurt in the process, “Honestly? I was goin’ easy on ya.” Hazel laughed uneasily. If only Mickey had known her real strength. The strength that came out when she turned into a monster so big it was the size of a car. “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with bein’ a lover over bein’ a fighter. I prefer kindness to big, scary, and mean.” I just can’t always control my big, scary, and mean.
Glancing down after he slapped his knee had directed Hazel to the scar making her feel somewhat worse for running into him, but he seemed okay, “They were pretty big fans yeah? When our parents made them go.” She laughed. “And I’m sorry again.” She nodded towards the scar. “As for the friend drama, just the age old story of best friend steals boyfriend. Nothin’ too excitin’.” Unless you throw in one friend being a big, scary monster that got locked away for uncontrollably eatin’ people when she got too upset.
“By the way, I like that jello they have at the hospital. Like it even better when they throw a dollop of whipped cream on top.” Hazel was desperately trying to move on from the friend drama of what felt like another lifetime ago. “But it is a pleasure to meet you too, Mickey.” She laughed when he showed her his air triangle skills, “We find us a drummer, keyboardist, and a bass player, and we got ourselves a full on band.” With a full trail still up ahead, Hazel started to move forward, “I think we can probably walk this one out, yeah? It’s a little flatter than what I was plannin’ on. Plus, I’ve seen some pretty sights walkin’ along this path before.”
It was a trail she had regularly taken. One that wasn’t too strenuous nor far. Perfect after a hard smack with another person that left you briefly in a daze. She had seen all kinds of animals out here too, “I usually see rabbits and deer. Maybe we’ll see somethin’ today.” Just about the time she had mentioned it, Hazel noticed bushes and grass rustling just up ahead, “Did you see that?”
—
Mickey made a mental note that he didn’t want to piss Hazel off. She was friendly as hell, but he got the impression that she wasn’t kidding about going easy on him. He didn’t picture her as purposefully violent, but if a bar fight were to erupt he’d have bet his money on her. “Forced fans are still fans,” Mickey shrugged. He never got the experience of a sibling there to root him on during hockey. He had been an only child up until he was adopted, and by the time he was adopted his hockey days had long been over. His parents had been big supporters though, when they were able to make it to games. “This old thing? Seriously, don’t worry about it. It’s almost two decades old at this point. He just likes to act up every now and again. To remind me it's there, I guess?” he dedicated a minute to stretching the leg out in attempt to ease some of the pain and cramping that had come on. He shook it at the end, deciding that it was strong enough to get him back to his car. “A tale as old as time. Great for tv. Shit for real life. Sorry to hear about that.”
Mickey tried to not be too judgemental about the fact that Hazel had just declared that she liked hospital jello. He wasn’t a psychologist, but he did do a rotation in medical school, so he was confident it must have been some traumatic attachment rather than an actual love for the stuff. It was the only thing that made sense. “You got a nurse that added whipped cream to your jello?” Mickey whistled, clearly impressed. “They must have liked you. Nurses don’t break out the good stuff for just anyone. Most of the nurses at the hospital wouldn’t do that for me if I became a patient.” He liked to think he was joking about that, but he wasn’t convinced. “I can’t wait to start an air band together. I expect our name to be some sort of Air Bud pun.” Mickey hopped back and forth on his feet a few times to test his bad leg. It seemed to be back in working order. “Yeah, let’s do it. I love sight seeing.”
Walking along the path, Mickey listened to Hazel describe it. She must frequent this one from the sounds of it. It was hard to find new paths in a town that Mickey had lived his entire life, but he tried his best. He had gone this one a few times, but not enough to have any strong memories of the path. “I’ll be happy with anything.” Mickey mused, pausing when Hazel noticed the ruffling of the bushes. Knowing what he knew about this town, he had probably spoken too soon. After some more rustling something seemed to push a banana peel out from the bushes. “Is that… a banana?”
—
The conversation with Mickey had been a pleasant one so far. She was enjoying his company and learning more about him as a person and his life. All fairly quickly considering they had just smacked each other on a random run, but fate had a funny way of sticking people together right? And if the opportunity had presented itself, she absolutely would’ve joined an air band with an Air Bud name and shared her hospital jello with him. But of course this was Wicked’s Rest, and a casual conversation could never just be that; casual. There always had to be something getting in the way of a soft moment. And sometimes Hazel questioned why she chose to stay in this odd little town.
Her eyes had seen the rustling of the leaves, which naturally meant there had to be a squirrel or something hopping around and looking for food, right? But what she didn’t expect to see was…a banana? About the time she had said it in her mind, Mickey had spoken it out loud, “Um, I think you might be right in your observation, but what in the world would be offerin’ us a banana? Are there wild monkeys in Wicked’s Rest?” I mean it was a valid question. There had been a zoo. Maybe one of the monkeys had escaped, and maybe it just happened to be well trained and polite.
Reaching down to grab the banana, Hazel latched on giving it a firm tug, but when she did, the peel caught on some of the shrubbery and came loose from the banana. It didn’t take long for the fruit to let out a horrific scream that startled Hazel and caused her to drop it, stumbling backwards and hitting the ground for the second time today, “What in the ever lovin’ banana puddin’ was that?!” She looked up to Mickey confused by what was happening.
—
As far as things jumping out of bushes went, a banana wasn’t the worst admittedly. Sure it was bizarre and definitely one of the weirdest things that could come from a bush, but there were a lot scarier options too. Mickey had no clue what Hazel did or didn’t know about the supernatural. Hell, Mickey’s own knowledge was infantile compared to what actually existed out there. He wasn’t sure he was prepared to have to explain the supernatural to someone. So, a banana was a welcome, if not confusing surprise. “Wild monkeys would actually be super fun. Unless they’re like that one monkey that tore the face off of their owner. That is decidedly less fun.” He’d still take monkeys over a werewolf or any other creature of the night.
The sudden scream really threw Mickey off. He jumped, feet leaving the ground and leaping backwards away from the banana. Or rather, the peel. He tried to reach for Hazel, but was too far away now and could only step forward to try to help her back up after she had fallen. He rubbed at his ears, the scream just high pitched and irritating enough to make his eardrums tingle in discomfort. “I have absolutely no clue.” Mickey admitted, no time to even comment on Hazel’s incredible word choice. He created a mental pin to bring it up later, once they were away from the shrieking banana peel. More rustling from bushes soon revealed three more bananas. Now that Mickey knew what to look for he could tell that nothing had dropped them at all. They were dragging themselves across the forest floor. The fruits were mobile. “What the-” before Mickey could finish the sentence the creatures all screamed in unison, harmonizing together to create an ear splitting scream much louder than before. He covered his ears to try to block the noise, “I think we should speed up that exit plan. You ready to run?”
—
Hazel quickly scrambled to her feet with Mickey’s help, and as she did so, she noticed the other bananas joining in with their buddy. Apparently a protective bunch they were. But the ear piercing scream made it feel like her brain was going to melt and ooze out of her head. How could bananas be so darn loud? How could bananas scream?! This town was one ridiculous thing after another. And it easily felt like she was living in an episode of The Twilight Zone.
Looking over at Mickey and barely making out what he was saying, Hazel nodded fiercely with no time to brush herself off. Instead, she set her eyes on the crawling fruit as it inched closer and another banana…No! Two bananas!! came to join in the obnoxious song of their people, “Anymore and my ears are going to bleed!!!” And on that note, she had taken off running as fast as she could, until the screams were in her past, finally slowing down and looking back to see if Mickey had been able to keep up.
—
Mickey’s leg really hated him right now. If the thing had been sentient it would definitely have some color adjectives to hurl at Mickey as he forced it to carry him forward despite its protests. But also if the thing was sentient the two could have probably had a nice conversation later about the importance of powering through when supernatural screaming bananas were giving chase. A nice heart to heart while elevated and intermittently putting on an ice pack. Given this fake scenario, he was totally convinced that the two would make up. Hypothetically. If his leg was sentient. Where had he been going with this again?
Right. Monster bananas. Somehow rolling out of bushes, screaming bloody murder and maybe or maybe not trying to kill Mickey and his new friend. The last piece was purely speculation, but neither of them had stuck around to find out. Luckily, it seemed like what the bananas had in decibels they lacked in speed. After what had felt like miles of running along the hiking trail, Mickey risked a glance back to find that nothing was right behind them. Thank god, because he really didn’t think his leg would have carried him much further. Given the whole imaginary fight the two were having. “Screaming bananas. That’s new.” Mickey tried to sound casual through the strained, heavy breaths he was taking. Admittedly, the things really freaked him out. He took a tiny break, just long enough to shake his bad leg and try to massage out the cramp that had built up. It felt more like throbbing now than a cramp which wasn’t ideal, but that was a problem for when he was back in his apartment. “Totally preferred meeting you through mutual collision rather than screaming fruit.” his leg hurt too badly to make a joke about that being the majority of the crowd at a Charli XCX concert or something similar. “Super fun hangout idea. We book it to our cars together and get the hell out of here.”
—
When she found Mickey had managed to catch up, Hazel could clearly see he was struggling with his leg, and she had felt bad for just leaving him. But the thought of being attacked by screaming bananas was not something she wanted to keep on experiencing, and she had made a mental note not to ever go back to that part of the woods again. She had also found herself grateful that her devil hadn’t made an appearance, but to a ginormous wolf, those things probably looked puny, “Yeah, new alright, and they’ve given me a banana ear-splitting headache.”
As she caught her breath and managed to calm down, Hazel looked past Mickey to make sure the little monsters weren’t still coming after them. It had seemed pretty quiet at that point, but she certainly didn’t want to take anymore chances, “Oh yeah, I’d gladly run into you again, literally, if it meant we didn’t have to experience anything like that, but you know what? I like your new hangout idea even better.” Despite living in The Pines, and not having a car, but instead, a home to run back to, Hazel smiled through the exhaustion. If this is what it took to make friends in Wicked’s Rest, the young woman was at least already ahead of the game, but one thing she knew for certain…the next time her and Mickey hung out, it would not be in the woods with the chance of running into screaming fruit again.
If it were based on your emotional well-being, I think they'd have a lot more problems on their hands than they do now. So I think you're safe. Hopefully. Maybe. You can make new friends anywhere if you put in the effort, but I get what you mean. I feel the same.
You make a good point. And I've started over so much, that sometimes I think it's just easier to stay and endure the pain. At least I wouldn't be alone again. But after Friday...I don't really know anymore...
[pm] If you find a candy you prefer, you let me know. I'll stock you up. On the subject of food, though, do you by any chance like champagne and caviar? If so, I've got some that I commandeered. [...] Yeah, it's all cute and fun until the tide comes in and you don't know how to use your tail.
[pm] Yeah, of course. Thank you, Maggie. What about Milkbones? Got any of those? Champagne and caviar? I've never had it. Was it good? I'm assuming, since it's been two weeks since New Years there's none left. Oh Maggie. I'm cringing just thinking about it. I'm so sorry.
[PM] You should've invited me, I love a pity party. But I think it's good that you're coming out. We should get lunch or something. Or just go for a walk, if it's not too cold for you.
Oh, believe me. I meant more, like, doing research than going poking around. [...] That wasn't your fault, Hazel. No matter where you stuck your nose.
[pm] Next time, I'll know. I did something horribly bad, and I've only told two people. I should probably tell you, but I don't want to keep dragging people into this. It's not safe. I would love lunch or a walk or anything. And I run hot. Mutt remember? Heh.
No? Sometimes, some wounds can look worse than they appear. So that's good, it wasn't all that bad in the end! No infection is always a good end result! Well, that's good, whatever damage was done had healed quick, must have really good cells. It's starting to. But there's plenty of work to do still. Oh. Well, I don't know. It was for Halloween, so it was just kind of set up that way, right? So nothing to worry about. Wouldn't say it was exactly like any of those wild stories I read about from time to time. Like crazy apples of some kind of supernatural fashion. People around here do have some really big imaginations.
I really hope that's the case with what I did at the drive-in. That all those people were just faking it. Yeah, it really is. I didn't want to have to go to the doctor. Thanks mom and dad. Whoever you really are. I heard there were some weird things that happened around that time. Speaking of apples. How's that bruise? And I agree. They really do. Could make a movie about this place...
You were probably smart to leave town. Something really bad. Really really bad. I'm not sure. I just know there were a lot of sirens and people being told to stay home.
What did I do? What did I do...what did I do...what the fuck did you do Hazel...you stupid, stupid mutt. Ms. Betty should've ended me when she had the chance...
Does anybody know of a good gym? Looking to get back in shape this year.
germansingergirl
gummygunk
vaporwave
annaxmalina
jacobvanloon
theartofmadeline
jbbartram-illu
tangentwithtanner
